


Sabrina's Body

by OpheliaKatherineDokee



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Abuse, Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Dark, F/M, I'm Going to Hell, Minor Original Character(s), More Like A Ruin-It, Not A Fix-It, Parent/Child Incest, Part 4, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Sabrina Morningstar deserved better, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaKatherineDokee/pseuds/OpheliaKatherineDokee
Summary: On the fateful night of her 17th birthday, Sabrina Spellman chooses to surrender Sabrina Morningstar's body to Lucifer and Caliban in order to protect her friends and coven.  It's a choice she ends up regretting for the rest of her life.
Relationships: Caliban (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Sabrina Spellman, Sabrina Spellman & Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Sabrina Spellman & Sabrina Morningstar, The Dark Lord | Satan/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 42
Kudos: 89





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> So Part 4 was...something. I enjoyed it more than Part 3 but I didn't like the ending that much. It seemed way too dark and depressing for me.  
> So what did I decide to do about? Why, start writing something even darker, even more depressing and way way WAY more fucked up! Because I'm apparently incapable of writing anything that isn't overladen with angst and depravity. 😛
> 
> Anyway. In this story, Sabrina is able to trap all of the Void in Pandora's Box before the coven brings her back in Sabrina Morningstar's body, so she doesn't absorb it any of it herself. Also Ambrose doesn't raise his wand, so Sabrina is able to surrender to Lucifer and Caliban.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING.  
> This fic contains EXPLICIT descriptions of rape, as well as themes of incest, physical abuse, general misogyny and allusions to suicide. You have been warned.

“Tell me, _false daughter,_ is it true?”

Sabrina Spellman had never seen her Father so furious.

Not even his wrath after her attempt to seal him in the Acheron Configuration could compare to the fiery rage that emanated from Lucifer Morningstar as he stood before her now, an equally hateful Prince Caliban at his back.

They had surrounded the entire Spellman Mortuary with their minions, innocent miners possessed by Beelzebub's foul spirits and forced to fight for the Devil himself. They meant war, and it could only be because of her.

So it was her who had gone out to confront him.

“Is what true?” she asked, trying not to betray her intimidation. It wasn't as much for herself, for she had faced the Dark Lord and far worse before.

Her fear was for her family, her friends, all of whom had just wanted to celebrate her seventeenth birthday with her and had now been dragged into her extreme daddy issues. Everyone whom she had ever loved was gathered in the house behind her, and they were all at the full mercy of Lucifer and Caliban's stolen rabble.

“That my daughter, Sabrina Morningstar, is dead, and that your soul occupies her body?”

So he _had_ found out about that. She supposed it had only been a matter of time, yet this was far sooner than she had anticipated. She had barely even managed to come to terms with her other half's death herself, despite having had to prepare her own body for her funeral.

She swallowed, fighting the urge to break down crying as she answered. “Yes...it's true.”

Lucifer bristled. “The gall of you! You send my daughter to her death, you claim her body for yourself, and you don't even bother to tell me, her father!” He hurled the words at her, besides himself with rage.

It wasn't like he had the right to hold the higher moral ground over her, given he was literally Satan, and yet when he put it that way...what she had done did sound pretty bad.

Sabrina Spellman had never cared for Lucifer or Prince Caliban, but Sabrina Morningstar had. The dead Sabrina had loved Lucifer as a father and Caliban as a husband. The very least she, the sole living Sabrina, could have done was told them of her counterpart's fate.

But Sabrina Morningstar had given her life to warn her of the oncoming Void, and all Sabrina could focus on was trying to stop it. To ensure her death wasn't in vain.

And then after that- after her aunts pulled her soul from the Void and placed it in her other half's dead body- it was out of the question. The last time she went to visit Lucifer in Hell, he completely disowned her. He had rejected her as his daughter and then banished her from the realm.

He had made his position clear. Sabrina Morningstar was his child, his cherished heir. Sabrina Spellman was just an imposter. If she had gone waltzing into his throne room and broken the news to him that not only was Sabrina Morningstar gone forever, but her soul had taken over her body...he likely would have struck her dead on the spot.

Much like it seemed he was about to now.

“Well, false daughter, I want it back. Her body. Deliver yourself willingly, or I will take her body by force! Either way, Sabrina Morningstar will have a queen's burial in Hell!” he bellowed, and Sabrina's heart sank.

So this was what it would come down to. In a way, she had always known it would. She didn't want to die, she didn't, and Sabrina Morningstar wouldn't have wanted her to die either. But Sabrina had already been willing to sacrifice herself to save those she loved. She had written a note of goodbye to her family before going into the Void, certain she wouldn't be returning.

Her coven had bought her another day of life by putting her soul in the other Sabrina's body. But in the end, death had always been inevitable. She would accept her fate bravely.

She took a step in her father's direction, hearing Aunt Zelda cry out her name. They didn't want her to go. They were still willing to fight for her even when there was no hope of winning.

“No, Aunt Zee,” she told her aunt softly, as she moved away from the friends and family who loved her and towards the “Father” who hated her, holding her arms out. “You want me. You can have me,” she declared.

He seemed suspicious at her ready co-operation. Understandable, given how many times she had already thwarted him.

“Bind your magics with a spell. I want you helpless,” he ordered her, proceeding to recount the ancient (and seldom used) incantation that would render her powerless until another saw fit to counter it.

Sabrina had no plan to outwit him now, no last-second plots up her sleeve. She was ready to die. She was ready to meet the other part of her; her other half, her soul twin, Sabrina Morningstar; in the afterlife.

“Bind my hands, tie my tongue, permit my mind to spell-cast none.” She repeated the spell back to him, instantly feeling its effects as her magical supply was cut off. There would be no more spell-casting for her. Ever again.

Satisfied, Lucifer extended a hand. “Come to me.”

He and Caliban were fixated on her, and there was both hatred and greedy fervour in their eyes.

The few steps it took to reach him seemed to take an eternity, and Sabrina felt strangely numb as she took them. Most of her fear was gone, replaced with acquiescence, and the rest of the world seemed to have ceased to exist. It wasn't until she was directly in front of Lucifer and about to take his hand that she became dimly aware of all the commotion going on behind her.

All the mortals and witches whom she were walking away from were now screaming out her name, begging her to come back, not to do it, and entreating Lucifer to spare her.

As much as she knew she would regret it, she took a glance over her shoulder, seeing every one of their faces. All of them- Harvey, Roz, Theo, Robin, Prudence and Agatha, Ambrose, Aunt Hilda, Aunt Zee, and Nick.. _.Oh Nick,_ who was being physically restrained by the other Academy students to stop him from running after her.

They had only just gotten back together and now they would be torn apart forever. They should have had centuries together, grown old together. And she should have been there for her aunties too as they grew old, to care for them and be at their bedside when their times eventually came. But not only would they outlive her, they wouldn't even be able to bury her.

The sacrifice she was making was for all of them. And like Sabrina Morningstar, she didn't want her sacrifice to be in vain.

She halted both her step and the hand she had been reaching out.

“There's one condition.” Sabrina met Lucifer's fierce, expectant gaze, matching it with one of her own.

“You can have her body. Give Sabrina Morningstar the royal funeral she deserves. But once I give it up, you _will_ let everyone else here go. The miners, my coven, the mortals. Please,” she implored him, and his eyes narrowed, mouth twisting in contempt.

He had never been planning on doing such a thing, she knew it. In his eyes, they were all as guilty as her. Worse even, for it had been her wish to stay with them- back when she and Sabrina had still been one- that had caused her to split herself in the first place. That had led to the cosmos crumbling. That had led to Sabrina Morningstar having to travel to the alternate world where she met her death.

Slaughtering them all would avenge her, in his eyes- never mind that his dead queen would have been heartbroken to see it.

There was nothing stopping him from killing her right there and ordering his forces to attack anyway. In fact, she suspected he was about to do just that, and she made one last-ditch attempt to reason with him. “Remember, they meant something to her too once.”

Reminding the Dark Lord that _his_ Sabrina had also been part of the Spellman family was a risky venture which may well have only fanned the flames further. But it was difficult to see how things could possibly get worse than they already were. She had nothing left to lose.

And oddly enough, her words did seem to get through to him.

“Fine.” His assent was extremely grudging but it was an assent nonetheless.

With still no true idea of whether he planned on keeping his word, she took the final step towards him and placed her hand in his. It instantly closed around hers in a vice grip as he dragged her towards him, pulling her into his arms in what was anything but a hug.

“Dismiss the legion. We have what we came for,” he told Caliban, who looked extremely disappointed.

“But Lord Lucifer-” he began to protest, quickly shutting up under the glare Lucifer gave him.

Turning to the miners with a scowl, the prince uttered the incantation to free them from Beelzebub's curse. There was a loud buzz as the swarm of fly demons exited each of their hosts and rose into the air, before disappearing off into the night, presumably to rejoin their master.

Now freed from possession, all the men fell to the ground; coughing, spluttering and in a state of extreme confusion, but alive and otherwise unscathed. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabrina thought she saw Harvey slump against the railings of her porch in relief at seeing his dad return to normal.

She felt a flicker of relief too, which vanished when Lucifer hissed in her ear. “Let us delay no longer, false daughter. Sabrina's funeral arrangements must commence.”

Sabrina never got the chance to say goodbye to her loved ones, nor even take another look back and see their faces one last time. In a whirl of fire she, Lucifer and Caliban were gone from the mortal realm, re-appearing in one of the antechambers of Pandemonium's throne room.

It was the same room where she had gathered with Lilith during her brief tenure as Queen of Hell. Where she had brought Ambrose after Aunt Zee insisted she needed an escort, and he had been so psyched to see Hell for himself. Where she and Caliban had sat and read up on the Pygmalion spell and he had first expressed his desire to marry her.

She had declined, of course, but the idea of working together had stuck. She had even started to entertain the possibility that Caliban wasn't actually the Worst.

But as it turned out, he was, and he was showing all his true ugly colors now. Despite having achieved his objective of retrieving his queen's body, he was embittered at being denied the chance to spill the blood of all her family and friends.

He glowered at the living Sabrina, hatred etched across every corner of his perfectly sculpted face, before confronting Lucifer.

“You spared them! Those heretics spurned you, forsook you to worship a primitive pagan goddess, and desecrated your daughter's- my _wife's_ body- and you let them live?” he yelled, seething with indignation.

Lucifer had relinquished his grasp on Sabrina, and she had stumbled a few feet away from him, waiting unsteadily in the middle of the floor. His eyes were still on her, hardly glancing in his son-in-law's direction as he growled his response.

“The Greendale coven and their False Goddess are no threat to me. As to that meagre gathering of cottage witches and mortals? Not even worth the effort of destroying. Now be silent. You are trying my patience, boy.”

Caliban's nostrils flared at this reprimand though he didn't dare directly contradict the Dark Lord. Unsatisfied, he rounded on Sabrina instead.

“I hope you are proud of yourself, imposter. Savour this victory for it shall be your last.” He grabbed the front of her blouse, trying to sneer at her but mostly failing due to his obvious rage. “As it is your first. Sabrina Morningstar was a queen, a goddess, a ruler to millions, a wife! What are you? _Nothing_. But it was her who walked to her death, to fix your mistake no less. It should have been you!”

His words were oddly familiar to Sabrina's ears. Thinking back- to a time in which she and Sabrina Morningstar were one and the same- she remembered where she had heard them.

 _I_ _t should have been you._ The very same line Harvey's dad had thrown at him after Tommy's funeral. Only now did she have any true insight into how Harvey must have felt at the time...and she felt exactly the same way.

But despite her grief, she was not about to weep and cower in front of these two. Instead she stood upright, glaring back at Caliban as she hotly retorted. “I wish it had been me. I wish to Satan it had been me!”

Caliban only sneered even more at her bravado, while Lucifer himself let out a dark, wholly humorless laugh.

“Then I will grant you your wish, false daughter.”

He raised his hand in her direction and she thought she knew what was coming. He would clench his fist and twist his wrist, and her neck would snap with it. A quick, clean death. It was a relief, though she hadn't been expecting anything drawn-out or too gruesome. They wanted Sabrina Morningstar's body to be whole and untarnished for her royal burial.

Sabrina Spellman would accept it. Screwing her eyes shut, she waited for the end to come.

But it never did. Before Lucifer could make that fatal gesture, Caliban chose to interrupt.

“Wait.” Sabrina opened her eyes again, seeing the prince's face was mere inches from hers. “The queen must receive her burial, and she shall. But first...”

His hand was still clutching at her front, his eyes still glaring at her with intense hatred. Yet there was something else in them...and Sabrina didn't like it one bit.

She had seen it in him before, while they had been competing for the throne of Hell. When she had first appeared before him on the Shores of Sorrow; when she had been crawling on the ground and he had stolen Herod's crown from her instead of helping her; and when she had later punched him in the face for it.

And again, in a softer form, when he had proposed to her that they marry and rule Hell together...and suggested their alliance be carnal in nature.

He smirked as he looked her up and down hungrily . “My beautiful bride and I were torn apart so cruelly. We barely had the time to say goodbye to one another. If only I had had the opportunity to share one final passionate embrace with her...” He sighed wistfully, smirk momentarily replaced by an unconvincing expression of sorrow.

Sabrina really had to wonder. _Had he even cared about Sabrina Morningstar at all?_ She doubted it. She just _knew_ marrying him had been a mistake on her other self's part. In what world could she have ever managed to fall in love with him as deeply as she had? It seemed obvious to her that he had only ever liked Sabrina for her body and her crown.

The former became all the more apparent as he continued, “Yet while her body still holds life- even if it isn't her own- it seems I've been given a last chance.” He caressed her cheek, just like he had before leaving her trapped in the Ninth Circle of Hell for all eternity, while Sabrina's blood ran cold.

_He's...he's not serious, is he?_

“No,” was all she said at first. Her blunt refusal did absolutely nothing to deter Caliban. If anything, it seemed to spur him on. His loathsome smile widened as he continued stroking her flustered face, undoing the top button on her blouse.

Outraged at his audaciousness, she slapped that hand away before he could undo any more. “No way! I agreed to surrender my body so Sabrina could be buried. I didn't agree to do it so you could get laid one last time!”

She cast an anxious look at Lucifer, who was remaining unusually quiet during all of this.

His arms were folded, watching them with a mixture of annoyance and boredom...yet he voiced no objections to Caliban's harassment. Sabrina wasn't sure why she had been expecting him to. She wanted to call out to him, to...what? Remind him he had a funeral to plan? A burial to prepare? That he had brought her here to murder her?

But Caliban tightened his grasp on her chin and turned her face back to his. “It's my wife's body, not yours. She would have agreed to it,” he cajoled, leaning in to try and kiss her, and she shoved him.

“No! She wouldn't have agreed to _this_! She wouldn't have wanted this!” she shouted, attempting to pry his hand off her without success as he tugged at her blouse again.

 _He's not teasing. He's serious. He really means to assault me,_ she realized in panic.

She desperately tried to reason with him. “It's her body, but it's still not her! It's me, Sabrina _Spellman_ , and _you're_ not my husband! My boyfriend is Nick! _He's_ the one I love and the only one I'll ever be intimate with-”

The last part of this terrified babble was what finally caught the Dark Lord's attention.

It was like a switch had been flipped. All his indifference vanished, posture going rigid as he stared straight at his daughter.

“You laid with Nicholas Scratch?” he asked, in a voice that was dangerously quiet.

Sabrina went white, discerning that she had just made a grave error. She could sense something had shifted in him and was forced to acknowledge she had been wrong earlier. Things could always get worse...and they were just about to.

“So sending my daughter to die, neglecting to inform me of her death, and stealing her body for yourself was not enough for you, girl? You also mean to tell me that in addition to all those affronts...you allowed your filthy pet warlock to defile her? Is that true, false daughter?” he demanded to know, advancing on her while she backed away- Caliban having released her to get out of the Dark Lord's path himself- until she hit the table.

Cornered, she was unable to do anything when Lucifer reached her and seized her roughly by the throat.

“I...I-” Sabrina gasped for air. Even if she had been able to speak, there was nothing she could say. It was true.

After her aunties saved her from the Void and put her in Sabrina Morningstar's body, and then they discovered the Void had disappeared...she had thought it was finally all over. She had felt a sense of relief that they no longer had to worry about the Eldritch Terrors and Blackwood's machinations.

But she had also held a deep grief for her other half, along with a huge amount of guilt that she had been the one to survive while Sabrina Morningstar perished.

She found her solace in Nick's loving arms that night. It hadn't seemed wrong at the time. This was the body she was going to be in for the rest of her life, the same one she had lived in before she made the split. She had to embrace it as her own.

But again, when Lucifer described it in such a way...it sounded awful.

She didn't dare affirm his suspicions out loud, let alone try to begin justifying her actions. But her silence spoke for her. His face darkened in a deadlier rage than she had ever seen.

“You whore!” he roared, his backhand striking her so hard across the face that she was sent careening back. She landed heavily on the table surface, head spinning and vision blurry from the blow, her cheek burning like it was on fire. She lay in a daze, eyes watering, too stunned to move or think clearly. She was barely even aware of her surroundings until Caliban materialized next to her.

He cupped her cheek, his hand tender on her searing skin. “My lady will bruise,” he said to Lucifer accusingly.

His _lady_? Sabrina, still in a stupor, was bemused by his words and his strange concern. But as lucidity returned, she understood. His lady was Sabrina Morningstar, the dead wife he wanted to preserve. How silly to think he had actually been defending _her_. She was just a body to him now.

Lucifer dismissed Caliban's reproach. “It can be concealed.” The immense hatred in his eyes as he gazed down at her was chilling to see, and there was utter contempt in his tone as he spoke. “You saw fit to take my daughter's body, interloper. You can take everything that comes with it. Caliban-” As the prince turned to him hopefully, he practically spat, “-Have your fun with her.”

His denouncement was like a second death sentence. Sabrina screamed as Caliban wasted no time in moving in on her.

“No!”

He ignored her protest, pinning her down with his superior strength and yanking at her top once more, not bothering with the buttons this time. She let out another shriek as the fabric shredded. “No! Get off me, you bastard! Get off me!”

She tried to kick at him and he caught hold of her leg. “Oh, how could I ever forget that spirited nature of yours,” he chortled, running a hand up her leg to knead her thigh. “I'll admit, I missed it. My wife was so much more docile than you...in bed anyway.”

Tears of anger and humiliation welled at Sabrina's eyes, blinding her further. That he had the audacity to bring up Sabrina Morningstar, to talk about her in such a way, and compare them while _assaulting_ her no less...it was more than she could bear. She had been willing to accept death at Lucifer's hands; glad even. But he had faded into the background now, having condemned her to a fate worse than anything she could have foreseen.

She clutched her ruined blouse to herself, trying to keep her chest covered. Caliban soon ripped it away from her, leaving her in her black lace bra. Admiring the sight, he smiled to himself as his eyes raked across her half-clothed body.

Then in a startlingly quick movement, he reached down and tore that off too.

With a squeak of terror, Sabrina tried to hide her exposed breasts with her hands while Caliban tried to pull them away. “You don't need to be modest, princess. I've seen them before,” he coaxed, as she squirmed and fought against him. Pausing, he tilted his head to one side and gave her a knowing smirk. “Many, many times before...”

“No...”

He raised a brow. “You keep saying that. But you don't really mean it.” He let those words hang, watching Sabrina's face redden over the offensive absurdity of them, before mischievously adding, “ _She_ never did.”

Sabrina lost it at that. She went into a violent frenzy, kicking and lashing out as much as she could while keeping herself covered.

“Fuck you!” she screeched at him, and he laughed.

“What do you think I'm doing?” He tried to restrain her, attempting to pry her arm from her chest while avoiding the rest of her flailing limbs. The two of them struggled like that for a while, which ended when Sabrina managed to land a kick in a rather sensitive area.

Grunting in pain, Caliban scowled down at her. “As cute as all your attempts to fight me are, I'm growing impatient here.” He snapped his fingers and Sabrina felt her body go limp. She could still move her head, but her arms and legs had been disabled by some kind of immobilizing spell.

Now completely and utterly defenceless, she could do nothing more to stall him. Her arms were pulled from where she held them and placed at her side. She lay half-naked and exposed while Caliban got on top of her, a wicked gleam in his misleadingly angelic blue eyes as he examined her.

“Oh, much better,” he breathed, burying his face in her chest.

“Please don't-” Sabrina's plea ended in a gasp when he took one of her rosy nipples in his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it, squeezing her other breast hard, which seemed so small in his large hand. “S-stop...” She tried again, though it was futile.

He ignored all her weak protests as he continued to tease and play with her, alternating between her breasts, until one of his roaming hands wandered lower and lower. It delved into her pants, and Sabrina's pleading reached a new pitch.

“No, no, stop!” He pushed her lace panties aside, pointer finger plunging into her folds. “Stop, stop!”

Lifting his golden head from her chest, which was wet with saliva, he shot her a devilish smile. “Relax, princess. I know what I'm doing. I'm very well acquainted with this body you've stolen, much more than your lowly warlock boyfriend. Be happy I'm about to show you a taste of _true_ unholy pleasure before you leave this world.”

Moving up her body, he grasped her hair to prevent her from turning away as he roughly crashed his lips against hers. His tongue forced itself into her mouth, just as his finger jammed its way into her tight opening. He fingered her furiously, thumb kneading at her clitoris, and Sabrina forced down any sensations of pleasure that might have arisen from it. Whatever he said, Nick was better.

Her Nicholas, whom she would never see again...

When Caliban finally broke the kiss, he saw her wide brown eyes were shining with tears.

“Please...Caliban, I'm begging you. If you had any love for Sabrina Morningstar at all, don't do this. I'm not her! I might be in her body but _I'm not her_!” Sabrina Morningstar had loved him. And she _had_ been the same person as her, once upon a time. Surely, she must have seen something in him, some...good, in him. It couldn't have all just been about sex and power. It _couldn't_ have been.

Caliban studied her tearful face thoughtfully, and for the most fleeting moment, she thought she may have gotten through to him.

Then he said, “I know you're not her. If you were, all your pretty pleas might actually mean something to me.”

With that, her hopes were dashed. He laughed sadistically as he stripped the remainder of her clothing from her, while she craned her neck, desperately looking for Lucifer. She had almost forgotten he was there. If he even _was_ there. He seemed to have disappeared after he gave free reign to Caliban.

“Dad? Dad! Help me, Dad! Don't let him do this to me! Dad!” she screamed, in the most vain hope that his black heart might be stirred.

 _How...how could he do this?_ How could he stand by and let his own daughter be raped? She knew he was evil incarnate, the Devil himself, but still...she had wanted to believe some part of him might have cared for her in his own narcissistic way.

But her cries went unanswered.

Caliban forced her to face him again. “Daddy won't help you. You're not his little girl. _She_ was, but you...well, _you_ are the one who chose to turn your back on him. Don't be so shocked that he's now turned his back on you,” he told her softly but brutally, and Sabrina knew he was right.

Any father-daughter bond she might have had with Lucifer was lost when she decided to split herself. She hadn't even wanted one. She hadn't wanted to be Queen of Hell. She had just wanted to return to the Spellman family- her _real_ family- and live a normal life with her friends on Earth. And she had, for a time.

Sabrina Morningstar was the daughter Lucifer had wanted and she was the daughter he had gotten. She was the wife that Caliban had wanted, the Queen that Hell had deserved. And she had fulfilled all those roles to perfection, all the way up until her tragic untimely death.

What was Sabrina Spellman? Nothing now. She would die as nothing. Because she meant nothing to anyone here- not the denizens of Hell, not Caliban, and not Lucifer. But this was where she would die and be buried, and the name written on her grave would not be _Sabrina Spellman_ , but _Sabrina Morningstar_.

And her False Father would be the one to put her there.

Something broke in Sabrina then. It caused her to shut down completely. If nothing was what she was then nothing was what she would become.

So she said and did nothing as Caliban spread her legs apart and positioned himself at her entrance. She made no sound as he pushed into her unwilling body, nor when he took to fucking her with the same fury in which his fingers had.

There came no more crying and begging from her, and no more protests. No attempts to struggle, which would have been impossible anyway with the binding spell he had placed on her. She willed herself to become as cold and dead as she knew she soon would be.

She made herself feel nothing, suppressing her own response to her stolen body's instinctive reactions to sex. The sensation of him inside her was not unpleasant and she grew wetter with each thrust, but she let no moans or gasps escape her.

That wasn't for a lack of trying on Caliban's part, though. He toyed with her to his hearts content- tugging at her hair, fondling her breasts, groping at her ass, forcing more violent kisses onto her unyielding mouth. Nothing prompted a response from her. She would give him no such satisfaction. Sabrina Morningstar might have enjoyed being with him but Sabrina Spellman certainly didn't.

It didn't seem to bother him much at first, lost as he was in using her body, and whatever perverse delight he was getting out of hurting her. It didn't take too long for him to grow frustrated with her notable lack of participation, however. He eventually stilled on top of her, halting his thrusts.

“Hmph. I thought your feistiness might spice things up, but I may as well be fucking her corpse for all the signs of life you're showing!” He was panting in exertion, his handsome face flushed with pleasure, but an annoyed frown had made its way onto it.

Sabrina was willing to bet he was nearly as much of a narcissist as Lucifer himself, and her lack of reception was clearly bruising his ego. She didn't respond to his derogatory statement either, only fixing him with a dead-eyed stare.

His cheeks reddened further, his earlier rage returning with a vengeance. “You cold bitch. So this is how you're going to be.”

He suddenly pulled out of her, and she had a glimmer of ghoulish hope that she had managed to provoke him enough to kill her. Her ordeal might finally be over...even if it was in a more permanent way than she would have liked.

But his hands were soon on her again, turning her onto her front so she was bent over the table.

“What a lovely ass this is,” he commented, smacking it hard. “A pity my lady would never let me use it. I always respected her wishes, but since you're not her...”

Sabrina's eyes widened in horror. “No-”

“I thought that might get a response,” he snickered from behind her, his hardness pressing against her back entrance, and she tensed up.

“No, please not there- oh!” He thrust forward.

The pain was unimaginable. Losing her vaginal virginity hadn't hurt so much- barely hurt at all, actually. She had been worried that it would, having heard stories of disastrous first times from other girls at school, and even the descriptions in Hilda's trashy romance novels usually made a point of describing pain and blood (though it would all miraculously turn out good in the end).

But Nick had been so gentle and patient, and made sure she was well-prepared.

She was not remotely prepared now. Nor did her body have any natural way to ease her as he buried his full length in her tight rear, the tiny hole straining to accommodate his considerable size.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned obscenely, and she whimpered. He didn't move; staying inside her for a long, excruciating while as she clenched around him, feeling like she was being impaled; before eventually slipping most of the way out. The temporary relief this gave her was almost a sweet bliss in itself.

The relief didn't last. She barely had a second to enjoy her respite before he had plunged into her again, his hips slapping against hers, and he gave her no more time to adjust to him as he began pounding at her.

She desperately tried to stop herself from crying out, biting down on her lip, unable to properly stifle the small sounds of pain from leaving her mouth. They were largely drowned out by the louder, lewder noises that came from him while he ruthlessly fucked her in the ass. An act she would have been nervous about even letting Nick do, now being taken from her by someone she hated and without her consent...yet with her father's.

She couldn't even think about Lucifer's betrayal now though. The current physical torment she was being subjected to was all she could focus on. She didn't need to suppress any pleasured reactions any more, for she felt none.

All her efforts were solely concentrated on trying to stop herself from screaming in pain. Her eyes were streaming, her lip bleeding from how hard she was biting it.

But it eventually got to the point where she could hold it in no longer. A shriek of pure agony tore forth from her, piercing enough to make her own ears ring.

Caliban paused upon hearing it, unfortunately still inside her. Sabrina suddenly felt very glad she couldn't see his face, for she was sure the gloating grin on it would have been intolerable. He pulled her into what might have been a standing position (if she could actually stand), an arm around her torso supporting her while his fingers delved back into her folds.

“My apologies, _my lady_ , for neglecting your pleasure,” he murmured to her, his addressal tinged with sarcasm, his thumb teasing her clit.

Sabrina didn't want any sexual pleasure from him. She wanted him out of her, off of her, to leave her alone and let her die with some trace of dignity still remaining. But that was not what she would get. He resumed his pounding of her ass with even more ardor, if that was even possible, and the slick his stimulation created was useless where it was.

It seemed pain and humiliation was all she would know for the remainder of her short life. Her tears fell onto the table surface below her and her sobs left her, as she gave up on hiding them. She cried out with every one of Caliban's thrusts, each one seeming to tear her apart. Her resolve was breaking down and so was she. She needed to find an out, no matter what it was.

With some effort, she raised her head to survey the room she would likely die in, her vision sparkling from the excess water in it. That was when she saw him.

Her father, Lucifer Morningstar, who had washed his hands of her and abandoned her to Caliban's non-existent mercy.

He leaned idly against one of the archways, having divested himself of his armor and reverted back to one of his flashy, loosely buttoned jackets. His body language was relaxed but his eyes were fixed intently on her, distinctly devoid of any emotion. Only an icy indifference.

Had he been there the whole time? Watching as his daughter was savagely raped, listening as she cried and begged for mercy? She was sure he had genuinely loved Sabrina Morningstar, and while she and Sabrina Spellman were different people now, they had once been the same. It was purely by chance that Sabrina Morningstar had been the Sabrina he got, but they were both equally his.

He would never have stood by while this happened to her, let alone approved of it. So how could he do it now?

She called out to him. Had she been able to move, she would have reached out to him too.

“ _Dad!_ ” It must have been the most plaintive, heart-rending cry she had ever emitted. His only response was to pointedly look away. Sure that her hopes couldn't be quashed any more than they already were, Sabrina doubled down on her efforts. “Dad, _please_! Help me! Help me!”

Her father was not moved by her pleas. Seeming entirely disinterested, he unfolded his arms and straightened up from his slouched position; not to come and help her, but to begin walking away.

Sabrina refused to give up.

“I'm your daughter! Your _daughter_!” she screamed after him, as though the reminder alone could break whatever delusion he was under. As though he might suddenly remember she was not merely a magical clone of his daughter but one and the same, only from a slightly different time.

And she thought she might have succeeded. Lucifer immediately stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face her once more.

All the cold indifference had left his features...

...and been replaced by the purest rage. His handsome face was twisted, green eyes blazing with a violent hatred that seemed to burn right through her.

The entire atmosphere around him darkened, and Sabrina was overcome with a visceral fear she hadn't thought would be possible for her to feel any more as he stormed towards them. She was already in the worst situation she could possibly be in, wasn't she? But she had once again been proven wrong. Things could still get worse, and they would get worse still.

Lucifer reached her in an impossibly short amount of time, seizing her in another one of his choke-holds with a snarl.

“ _You-_ ”

Using his grip on her throat to drag her up and away from the table, he pushed her against Caliban, who chuckled darkly as she was stabbed further onto him.

“ _-Are not-_ ”

With one hand still squeezing her windpipe while she coughed for air, he undid his dark leather pants with the other, relinquishing himself from their constraints and placing himself at her front entrance.

“- _My daughter!_ ”

A single horrified gasp escaped Sabrina as her father forced himself inside her.

His actions caused her little in the way of physical pain. Her cunt had been left wet and wanting, and he slid into it with relative ease despite his massive size. Yet his assault tore at her far more than Caliban's did. His was a reckless violation against her, a violent act of misogyny.

This, on the other hand, seemed like a violation of nature itself. It was so wrong, so taboo, and a line she hadn't thought even Lucifer capable of crossing up until now.

But she had heard him. According to him, she wasn't his daughter. So she supposed he didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing to her now.

Sabrina did, though. Her mind was numb with disgust as the two men abused her, used her body- the same body they had claimed to honor so much. But she was sure that their motivations no longer had anything to do with avenging Sabrina Morningstar's death, nor any supposed defilement that had been done to her.

No, it was about defiling Sabrina Spellman instead- putting her in her place, punishing her for being the one to live after daring to reject them, destroying her completely before they killed her too.

She could hardly wait for it. Even if some unholy miracle were to spirit her away now, whisk her out of the clutches of these two depraved monsters and back to the protective arms of her Aunties, she didn't see how she would be able to go on now she had been polluted so.

Every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror or looked down at herself, at Sabrina Morningstar's body, she would be forced to relive it...and she couldn't live with it. She couldn't live in this body any longer.

But she was tied to it now, in synch with all its natural reactions, and as sickened as she was by what was being done to her- to Sabrina Morningstar- she was even more sickened by the heady glow re-igniting in her core.

The stabbing pain Caliban was causing her had finally begun to subside, leaving her with a dull ache and a strange sense of fullness which didn't feel so bad. It might have even felt good.

But it was Lucifer who had really stoked the flames of physical passion in her. Her clit burned, her slick cunt seeming to suck him in. Each thrust sent a shiver of pleasure through her as he forced his way into her, over and over.

Sabrina couldn't understand it. She was being violated by a demon who had left her encased in stone for all eternity and her own _father_. She should be hating this. She _did_ hate it. But the body she had stolen for herself was clearly relishing it.

There had been nights where she had laid between the sheets of her virgin's bed and fantasized about being penetrated by multiple partners. There had been nights where she had entertained the odd stray fantasy about the insufferably handsome Prince Caliban. There had even been nights where she fantasized about being ravaged, in a seeming contradiction to all her feminist ideals.

But she had never once thought anything like _this_ would happen and she certainly never wanted it to. Because despite what men like Lucifer and Caliban thought, no woman ever wanted to be raped.

She wept while they fucked her, little moans escaping her between the resounding sobs of despair. Still trapped under the binding spell, their touch was only thing keeping her up.

Caliban gripped her hair while Lucifer maintained his hold on her throat, applying enough pressure to be uncomfortable, but giving her enough leeway to breathe. He brought her leg up to hook around his waist, allowing him to penetrate her even deeper.

Between him and Caliban, Sabrina felt like she was filled to the point of bursting; like she would split apart at the seams.

Caliban was the first one to climax. His thrusts became quicker, his breathing became shorter, and then he came to a still behind her. He finished with a low groan and one last hard thrust, spilling himself into her abused bowels.

He placed a lingering kiss on her shoulder, followed by a bite, before withdrawing himself from her body, and Sabrina felt a sense of both loss and immense relief at the absence. He smirked back at her as he pulled his clothes on, settling himself down on one of the chairs by the fireplace and waiting for Lucifer to be done with her.

But her father was far from done yet. It was as though he had simply been waiting to have her all to himself.

Pushing her back against the table, he took to her with such a ferocity that the surface creaked, threatening to collapse under her. He grabbed her ankles, bringing them to rest on his shoulders while he ploughed into her.

And not a sound came from him as he did. No groans, no moans, no salacious comments like there had been from Caliban. He showed little interest in her body- no teasing, no groping at her breasts or ass, and certainly no kissing- hardly touching her at all other than to keep her in place and retain his constant choke-hold. Sabrina wasn't sorry about the lack of attention. But it did seem bizarre that sex, even against her will, could be so sexless.

Then again...this _wasn't_ a sexual act. It was a violent one which would end with her murder.

Even so, her body still seemed to see it as such. She was moister than ever, which was just as well considering the punishing pace in which he was going at her. Her cunt was making indecent little wet noises as he slid in and out of her, and the shivers of pleasure she had been getting before were now becoming jolts, like she was being zapped with a electric current.

This shouldn't feel as good as it did...yet it did. There was a pressure building in her, one she recognized from her times with Nick and with herself. It had never been as strong as it was now, and it frightened her.

She tried to resist the pressure at first, in an effort to retain some of her pride and avoid further humiliation at the hands of her abusers. But it proved to be too strong, and she was so weary from her ordeal.

Maybe her soul and her stolen body just welcomed the last chance she would have to feel any kind of escape, even if it had been brought on by the most abhorrent of circumstances. She cried out as she came, the pleasure that had been building in her core surging outwards and searing her senses with bliss.

It was the most heavenly sensation she had ever felt, which was rather ironic considering she was in the depths of Hell, being raped by the Devil.

Lucifer's own release came soon afterwards. Perhaps he had been waiting for her- for what he saw as the confirmation that she was not his daughter but a whore. Now that he had it, he was fully satiated.

His grip on her throat tightened to the point of choking her and a soft grunt escaped him- virtually the only sound he had made so far- as he throbbed and came inside of her, his hot seed seeming to burn more than was natural.

It filled her to the brim, some of it oozing from her when he finally pulled out.

Her tear-filled eyes chanced a glance downwards, and she almost vomited. The gooey black substance seeping out from between her legs...was certainly not normal. It looked like tar, or pitch...or like the residue she had removed from Nick. Now it was in _her_ , likely poisoning her insides.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more.

Lucifer took a couple of heavy breaths as he stood over her spent body, hardly seeming fatigued at all despite the vicious assault he had just subjected her to. She slid to the ground when he released his hold on her, instinctively reaching out to brace her fall. It looked like the spell Caliban had cast was wearing off.

Even so, she couldn't move. Any good feelings left over from her dizzying climax were fading fast; replaced with pain, despair and an overwhelming shame.

She curled up on the floor, hiding under the table, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Closing her eyes, she let everything around her become a blur once more, like she was hovering between the state of waking and dreaming. She could vaguely make out Lucifer and Caliban's voices conversing and heard her name mentioned a few times, but she didn't bother deciphering what they were saying about her. She could guess anyway.

She lay and waited to die.

Then a new sound cut across her dreamlike stupor. It was the sound of footsteps approaching- ones Sabrina recognized well. There were many infernal Ladies in Pandemonium who wore high heels, but only one who walked with such purpose.

Sabrina opened her eyes again, watching Lilith's stilettoed feet draw to a stop before them.

“Lilith. What do _you_ want?” Caliban asked lazily, not having moved from his chair.

“My Lords. I heard of your return, and...” the demoness began, addressing the men with a calm collectivity which soon trailed off. Raising her gaze further, Sabrina saw Lilith staring down at her, bright blue eyes wide with shock. She apparently hadn't noticed Sabrina's broken form upon first entering the room...and had likely been expecting to find her dead. Not alive, and definitely not in the state she was now.

She quickly re-composed herself, however. “I see your campaign to retrieve the queen's body was successful.” If she was disgusted by what else they had done then she showed none of it.

“Indeed.”

Sabrina couldn't even bring herself to look at Lucifer, yet she could deduce from the disinterested manner in which he addressed his former handmaiden that he had hardly even acknowledged her presence.

Lilith was not deterred. “Then thanks to the correct information I gave you, you will be able to bury your daughter with all the grace that a Queen of Hell deserves. Now...may I have my powers back, as promised?”

She received no answer. She persisted nonetheless, her demeanor starting to betray some of her anxiety. “You swore on the Book of the Beast-”

“Fine.” Lucifer conceded with very much the same ungracious tone in which he had agreed to spare the coven. Striding over to his former concubine, he placed a hand atop her head. “As your reward for selling out Sabrina Spellman and her coven, traitorous witch, I hereby restore your powers.”

Even Sabrina, powerless as she was herself, felt the rush of energy in the air as Lilith's magics returned to her. The demoness basked in it, a small smile alighting her face, which disappeared when Lucifer's grasp on her tightened painfully. His nails dug into her scalp as he hissed in her face.

“Now get away from here, harlot, and take heed that I never see your face again. For if I do then you shall wish you were dead.”

Lilith frantically nodded, expression fearful, and he shoved her away from him in disgust. She staggered back, steadying herself before making to leave. A weak voice called out to her before she could.

“Wait, Lilith!” Disorientated as Sabrina was, some of what Lilith and Lucifer said to each other had managed to register with her, and she was extremely confused by it. Why had Lilith lost her powers? In what way had she “sold her out”? She needed answers.

And she needed to keep Lilith here. She knew Madam Satan was unable to protect her- if she was even willing to protect her- and that death was inevitable.

But an irrational part of her subconscious felt safer with a female figure around, as though she might be shielded from suffering more of the abuse she already had, naïve as it was. From the few discussions that she and Lilith had about Lucifer, she had deduced that the concubine had suffered her own share of abuse. If she hadn't been able to stop it from happening to herself then she definitely couldn't stop it happening to Sabrina.

She thought Lilith might continue walking, knowing this. But she paused, possibly in spite of herself, glancing down at the young witch. Sabrina had forced herself into a sitting position with some effort, clutching the table leg to support herself as she gazed at the demoness with wide eyes.

“I don't understand. You sold me out? Sold the coven out? How?”

Lilith was quiet, now looking at the floor instead. There was something she really didn't want to tell her. Sabrina felt like her brain was too misty with despair and fear to function properly but as she mulled over Lucifer and Lilith's conversation, the ugly truth hit her like a slap in the face.

She had wondered how Lucifer found out about Sabrina Morningstar's death and her soul transference. Someone must have told him. Now she knew who.

After everything Aunt Zee and the coven had done for Lilith! After they had delivered baby Adam, saving his and her life. After they had risked their own lives to shield both mother and son from the Plague Kings when they came to kill him. After they had offered her and Adam shelter from Lucifer, indefinitely. All that, just so she could go back to him and tell on them.

“Why...?” she whispered, fresh tears welling up. She felt even more betrayed than she had after finding out Lilith had engineered the apocalypse. Maybe she should have learned her lesson back then.

Lilith still didn't dignify her with an answer. Lucifer, on the other hand, laughed coldly at Sabrina's reproachful refrain.

“Why not? Clearly you don't know Lilith like I do, false daughter. There is nothing and nobody in the entire cosmos she won't sell if she thinks she can gain something from it. I used to enjoy that about her when she was my whore.” There was almost an equal amount of hatred in his expression as he looked between the two women. “But in this case, she wanted me to give her powers back. After I took them away as her punishment for butchering my son.”

Sabrina had another very brief second of confusion during which she wondered what Lucifer was talking about. His _son_? Did she have a brother in Hell whom she had never heard about?

Then the truth hit her again, and it was an even more horrifying blow than the last.

He meant baby Adam. The little boy whom Aunt Zee had delivered, whom all the witches in the coven had fussed over. Lilith's own child.

That couldn't be right. Lucifer must be mistaken. No one in the coven had seen Adam for a while but that was because Lilith had sent him away, right? She couldn't have killed her own baby. She wouldn't. She might be a power-hungry, man-eating demoness, but surely she wouldn't stoop so low as to kill her own son. Surely not. Not unless...

...Not unless Lucifer also happened to be said son's father.

Sabrina doubted she could ever feel as much disgust towards anyone as she now did towards him and Caliban. But Lilith had managed to come startlingly close.

“You killed your own _baby_?” she gasped, while the demoness stubbornly refused to meet her gaze. Then another sad afterthought occurred to Sabrina. “...My brother?”

 _Her brother_. Adam had been her brother. Yet she had never even met him properly. The only time she'd even seen him was when she encountered Lilith in Blackwood's perverse alternate universe.

All the other witches in the coven had fawned over him but Sabrina had never been much of a baby person, and she'd been far more caught up in maintaining her secret friendship with Sabrina Morningstar and tackling the Eldritch Terrors. She always thought she would be able to get to know him better once everything was back to normal.

But “normal” didn't exist in Sabrina's world, and now her little brother was dead. His innocent life had been snuffed out before he had even had the chance to live. Like her, like Sabrina Morningstar, he had been born of Satan, and all three of them had paid the price.

The tears pooling in Sabrina's eyes now poured freely. She buried her face in her knees, which she had drawn up to her chest, curling in on herself again as she broke down. She wept for poor little baby Adam, for the dead Sabrina, for her soon-to-be-dead self. She no longer cared about where she was, or who was watching. She had almost forgotten they were even there until she heard Lucifer tutting.

He made his way over to her, kneeling down next to her while she kept her head down and trailing his fingers through her white blonde hair. If she didn't know any better, it would seem like a comforting gesture.

“Oh, there there. Come now, Sabrina. There's no need to cry.” He spoke to her more softly than he had done all evening.

Despite his words, Sabrina cried even harder. Could he not understand her grief? He was distraught enough over Sabrina Morningstar's death, as was she. He must have been sad about Adam's death too. Could they not relate over this? Her whole body shook with sobs as she mourned her siblings.

Her father tutted again, leaning in closer to her. “You have nothing to cry about, false daughter. After all, he wasn't _your_ brother.”

Startled by this cruel, untrue statement, Sabrina looked up.

Absolutely none of the gentleness that had been in Lucifer's tone was showing on his face. His eyes were darker and more hostile than ever, and she saw death in them.

The hand entwined in her curls suddenly balled into a fist. She shrieked in pain and fright as he dragged her forward, out from under the table where she had been sheltering herself. Gripping her hair so hard that she thought he might tear it out at the roots, he forced her to face him, to look up into his hateful gaze as he reiterated the same sentiment as before.

“He wasn't your brother, for you are _not_ my daughter!” With that, he threw her backwards.

There was nothing to soften her landing or break her fall. The back of her head hit the hard floor with about as much force as it could, and the pain that erupted in her skull was almost blinding. She blinked a few times, struggling to stay coherent, but the darkness was already setting in.

The last thing she saw before blacking out was the flickering light of the fire, and her False Father's hate-filled glare.

And then there was nothing but pure darkness, and peace.

* * *

She awoke to darkness.

Sabrina didn't know where she was at first, or what had happened. She lay in the pitch black, puzzling as to why it was so dark.

Normally the moonlight would be streaming in through the circular window behind her bed, brightening her room with its glow. Even on cloudy nights there would usually be a small amount of light coming from the distant street lamps, enough for her to make out a few outlines anyway. She couldn't see a thing now.

It was a moment of confusion which was soon followed by alarming clarity as all her recollections of the day before came rushing back to her. She remembered her ill-fated birthday party, Lucifer and Caliban's attack, their capture of her, their brutal assault on her, hearing of Adam's death, and Lucifer throwing her to the ground.

She knew the traumatizing truth of what had happened to her. But she still didn't know where she was.

She didn't even know why she was still alive...if she even _was_ still alive. Perhaps this was the Sweet Hereafter that she had heard about. She never imagined it would be so dark. _So much for the light at the end of the tunnel_.

At least it _smelled_ quite nice; a bittersweet scent tinged with magic, which seemed extremely familiar to her yet she couldn't quite place. The atmosphere was pleasantly warm too. Apparently it wasn't just Hell that was hot.

Wanting to investigate her surroundings further, she tried to sit up and instantly regretted it as she was accosted with pain. A sharp pain in her head- which felt extremely heavy- and a duller pain in the lower region of her body.

Wincing, she dismissed any possibilities of her being dead. It seemed unlikely any injuries obtained in life would be carried over to the netherworld. That just wouldn't be right.

She guessed she was glad to still be alive, but that only raised more questions.

Namely, _where the Heaven am I?_

She attempted to conjure a ball of light to better see her vicinity, remembering with dismay that she had bound her magic when absolutely nothing happened. So she had no way to see. _Great_. She groped around in the darkness, hoping she might find a bedside lamp, and was pleasantly surprised when her hand soon closed around one.

As she turned it on, it began burning with a dim blue flame that didn't do much to illuminate the room, but did manage to give her enough light to see what was near her.

There was a lot to see.

The first thing she noticed was the walls. They seemed to shine in the dull light, like they were made of metal- possibly even gold- and they had been intricately carved with all kinds of Satanic imagery, protective charms and demonic sigils.

So she was still in Hell, by the looks of things. Imprisoned in the palace, likely.

Yet even this seemed off. Lucifer and Prince Caliban had not taken her as a prisoner. They had taken her because they wanted her corpse, to bury as Sabrina Morningstar. Why would they lock her in a cell?

Was she to be killed in a scheduled execution before the hordes of Hell for her supposed crimes? Or did one of them- most likely Caliban- want to toy with her again before killing her? Did they want her to suffer even more before she died?

If so, then this was the most bizarre cell she had ever seen. Not that she had seen the inside of many cells other than the witches cells and that outdoor cage at Golgotha, but still.

This seemed more like a storage room than anything; one that stored the most beautiful, opulent and mysterious of items. Paintings, sculptures, boxes of jewelry, spell books, even several instruments including a harp and a grand piano.

She held the light up as she walked around the room, taking it all in. Until she got to an object she recognized very well.

It was the golden mirrored dressing table from the throne room's antechamber. The very same one she had sat at with Sabrina when she first visited her, and where she had been getting ready for her wedding to Caliban. As Sabrina stared down at it, reeling from those memories which seemed so distant, she came to a disturbing realization.

Everything in this room had belonged to Sabrina Morningstar.

That didn't explain why she, Sabrina _Spellman_ , was locked in here with it all...but she was beginning to get some suspicions. Stepping closer to the mirror, she caught sight of her reflection. It nearly caused her to drop the lamp.

She had imagined herself to look like a pitiable, dishevelled mess. That was what she must have looked like by the time Lucifer knocked her out.

But it seemed that while she had been unconscious, someone- or more likely an entire team- had given her the makeover of her life. Her face had been immaculately made up, her fluffy white curls carefully styled. She was dressed in a gown of purest white silk, her neck and wrists draped in sparkling gems, and the infernal crown had been placed on her head. No wonder it had felt so heavy.

She tried to take it off but found she couldn't. It had been fixed to her by some spell she was unable to lift.

It wasn't the only grisly discovery she made. She had noticed that the familiar bittersweet scent wasn't coming from the atmosphere, but from her...and she recognized what it was now. A magical infusion of myrrh witches used on their dead, to prevent their flesh from rotting and keep them perfectly preserved.

She used it on this very body when she prepared Sabrina Morningstar for burial, and it had been the first thing to hit her nostrils after her aunts pulled her soul from the Void and placed it in her body.

But Sabrina wasn't dead.

Panic began to set in as she hastily resumed her walk around the room, searching for the door. She circled the perimeter several times, examining the wall, but there was no door or even window to be seen. The closest thing she found to one was the outline of an archway at the front of the room...which appeared to have been filled in.

Sabrina came to a sudden stop. Gazing at where the way out had once been, the lamp shook in her hands as one final, bone-chilling realization dawned on her.

This wasn't a cell. It was a tomb.

The sealed tomb of Sabrina Morningstar, Queen of Hell.

She had been buried alive.

The lamp in her hands dropped to the ground, its small blue flame flickering out and leaving her in darkness once more. Sabrina soon followed suit, sinking to her knees as she began hyperventilating. Her head fell into her hands, her nails scraping at her face, great heaving sobs leaving her.

She had been ready to die. She had _wanted_ to die.

And die she would. Eventually...alone in the dark, deep below the Earth, far away from anyone who had ever cared for her. In someone else's grave, with nothing but her own traumatizing memories to occupy her.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no!_

In a last surge of desperation, Sabrina hurled herself at the sealed up archway; pounding at it with her fists until the skin on them broke and blood ran down the wall; screaming at the top of lungs for someone to let her out, to save her.

She screamed for Lilith, in the faintest hope that she might still be around and care enough to help, as much of a heartless child-killing demoness as she was. But she didn't come. She had gotten the powers she wanted and that was that. Why should she care what happened to her pesky former protégé?

She screamed for her beloved Aunties, who had always been there for her before, to shield her and keep her out of harm's way. But they weren't here now. They were in another realm entirely, unable to hear her cries, unknowing of what was happening to their niece.

She screamed for Hecate, Dark Mother and protectress of all witches, who was stronger than the Dark Lord and infinitely more merciful. But Hell was not her realm, and she had no power here.

And she screamed for her Father, crying and begging for him to show her mercy. But he had been the one to put her in here. He had no mercy, and he wasn't her Father. No father would ever do to his daughter what he had done to her.

Lucifer only ever had one daughter. Her name had been Sabrina Morningstar, and now she was dead.

Sabrina Spellman was merely her body.


	2. Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who's commented or kudosed, thank you so much. It really means everything to me. 💙

On the first day, Sabrina did little other than cry.

Once she had finished screaming for help that never came; screamed until she could scream no more; she slid to the ground and curled up into what was now becoming a familiar position as she wept, so hard that her body ached from the force of her sobs.

This all seemed like a nightmare. A childish part of her hoped she would wake up to find herself back in her bed at the Mortuary with Nick lying beside her, in her own body, that Sabrina Morningstar had never crashed through her bedroom mirror and died in her arms.

But sadly this was all too real. The short remainder of her life would be a living nightmare and only death would awaken her from it.

She could do it. There were no pills to overdose on or knives with which to cut herself, but she could smash that golden mirror and use the shards to end things now. It would be quicker than her inevitable death from hunger and thirst.

Her crying fit had already caused dehydration to set in. Her head, which was sore enough from her fall, was now throbbing and her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. It would only get worse the longer she went without water, and there were no water sources in here.

She couldn't live like this. She couldn't die like this.

Mind seemingly made up, she pushed herself to her feet with trembling hands, turned the lamp back on and gingerly approached the mirror. She stood over it, glaring at the reflection which was not truly hers. Sabrina Morningstar glowered back at her, face pale and eyes reddened, but none of her make-up out of place in spite of her host's constant tears.

She was eternally beautiful, forever the proud Queen of Hell. Just as her Father wanted her to be, and Sabrina Spellman had failed to be.

With another gut-wrenching sob, Sabrina shoved the entire vanity table backwards. The glass in its mirrors smashed as it toppled over, all the jewelry and ornaments that had been displayed on it falling off. A vase of dark lilies shattered to pieces, scattering blood red petals and forming a small puddle on the floor.

Wait... _water?_ Sabrina's heart briefly leapt as she stared at the precious life-giving substance. She'd completely overlooked the flower vases, and she had spotted several while surveying the room. All of them were bound to contain water. Possibly enough to last her about a week or so, if she was careful with how much she drank...

 _But what is the point?_ Her more rational side nagged at her. She was going to die anyway.

No one was going to let her out. Neither Lucifer nor Caliban were going to change their minds, and her family and friends on Earth wouldn't be able to save her. They probably thought she was dead already.

There was nothing to hold out for. She was only prolonging her own agony by trying to stay alive. The most pragmatic thing to do would be to pour all that water away and proceed with her original plan.

But she didn't. Maybe she was too scared, or maybe she was somehow still capable of holding a faint glimmer of hope in the back of her mind. Instead she scooped up the water from the floor, not even caring about where it had been. On her parched tongue, it could have been the best thing she had ever tasted.

After she had drank her fill, her thirst quenched and the pounding pain in her head beginning to subside, she became aware of just how physically weary she was. She had exhausted herself from crying, it seemed.

Not wanting to return to the altar-like stone slab on which she had awoken, she searched the tomb again, stumbling around with her dim light until she found a chaise lounge among Morningstar's many belongings. Like everything else in Hell, it was a blood crimson and appeared to have been built with aesthetics as opposed to comfort in mind, but it would have to do.

In the dark silence, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next day- or what she perceived to be the next day, for there was no possible way to tell in here- she looked for a way to occupy herself, and maybe distract herself from her imminent death.

A surprising amount of options were available. Sabrina Morningstar had owned a lot of possessions, and most of them seemed to have been buried with her. There were the stacks of books, a number of board games; some from the mortal world, like chess, and others which she presumed must be from Hell; as well as the musical instruments.

Since the piano was the only one Sabrina had any real experience in playing, that was the one she sat herself at.

Lifting the cover, she gazed down at the ivory keys and thought about the songs she knew. Patchy as her instrumental skills were, she had always been a good singer. It was something that normally made her happy.

While she had never felt less like singing, she found her voice as she settled into playing the familiar tune, the tomb's walls reverberating it back at her.

_I am sixteen going on seventeen_

_I know that I'm naïve..._

Only she was already seventeen, and she would never make it to eighteen.

What had once been her mantra now felt like a poignant reminder of everything she had lost. The last time she had sung it had been with Nick, whom she would never see again. The last time she sang, she still had hope. Now she had none.

Unable to continue, she halted her song, hands freezing over the keys. Wiping a tear that was threatening to fall from her eye, she looked for a different melody to play, and one in particular spoke to her.

Bringing her hands down, she tried again.

_Masquerade, paper faces on parade,_

_Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you..._

It had been the song with which she had fooled her father, foiling his plan to launch the Apocalypse. He had told her of his intentions to turn the Earth into a Hell on Earth, and how both he and her would rule over it together for all eternity.

She hadn't been the False Daughter then. She had been _his_ daughter and he had wanted her.

She and Sabrina Morningstar had been one and the same. They had both defied him, imprisoned him, had ruined plans he'd spent millennia forming.

Yet he had forgiven Sabrina Morningstar for what she had done. He had taken her back, had come to hold her dear in spite of their troubled history, and she had been the daughter he wanted.

Maybe when he looked at her, Sabrina Spellman, he only saw the girl who had defied him. She had spurned him for her witch family, mortal friends and life on Earth, and that made it easier for him to set her apart from the Sabrina he knew as his daughter.

 _She_ had been the one to betray him, for which he had said her suffering would be legendary even for Hell. Now she was suffering it.

Her rendition of Masquerade was a mere shadow of the triumphant song she had sung at her failed coronation; a sad, mournful little strain. She was hidden from the world, and she wondered if her voice could even be heard from where she was.

She knew nothing of Hell's burial practices- it wasn't as though any of its citizens ever _needed_ to be buried. The mortals in Hell were already dead and the demons were immortal. Sabrina Morningstar was an enigma.

Lucifer might have ordered a necropolis be built in Pandemonium specifically for her. Any of her demonic subjects who paid pilgrimage might think it was the dead queen's ghost who was singing now. Maybe Sabrina's spirit _would_ remain here even after she died, forever trapped in this tomb and haunting Hell with her sorrowful songs.

It was a depressing thought.

On the third “day”, she put a pin in her musical pursuits and began looking at the many books instead.

Her infernal counterpart had amassed an impressive personal library during her time as queen. Despite no longer having the ability to cast anything, Sabrina looked through the spellbooks out of interest, and was stunned to see many of them seemed to have been written by Sabrina Morningstar herself. She could recognize her own handwriting when she saw it.

There were spells she had never seen before, that seemed to be of Sabrina Morningstar's invention, as well as invocations, most of which referred to the Queen of Hell herself.

She even found an amended version of the Dark Lord's Prayer which addressed the Dark “Lady” in addition to the Dark Lord and ended with “ _Praise Satan, praise Sabrina._ ”

Lucifer had been involved in a lot of the writing too, judging by the frequent corrections and additions that had been made in a flourishing cursive she knew belonged to neither Lilith nor Caliban. As she looked over the prayers and devotions before her, she understood.

The Greendale coven had turned to Hecate but most of witchkind still followed the Dark Lord. He had been planning on presenting Sabrina Morningstar to them as his anti-Christ, for them to worship alongside him.

To prepare for that pivotal moment, he had taken a hands-on approach to educating her in the ways of being a goddess of witches as well as a queen of Hell. Some of her abilities would have been limited due to her mortal blood but she would have her father to support her, and he could be happy in the knowledge that she could never fully eclipse him.

She envisioned Sabrina Morningstar sitting at her desk with her bone quill, Lucifer hovering behind her, possibly directing her hand while she wrote, just as he had done when she- both of them- signed her name in the Book of the Beast.

Had he been a good teacher? A patient, understanding teacher? Sabrina wouldn't have thought so. She would have imagined him to be a total drill sergeant.

Yet the other Sabrina had described him as a teddy bear and though it was difficult to tell for sure, none of this writing seemed to have been done under duress. Quite the opposite. She could practically feel the passion in every word, the girl's enthusiasm bouncing off the page. It seemed both father and daughter had been at harmony as they readied her for her glorious ascension.

That had never come about. Sabrina Morningstar had only been human and in the end, she had died like one. Now these various possessions and this stolen body were all that remained of her.

Setting the spellbooks aside, she thumbed through the rest of the stacked tomes. There were books on demonology and occultism, as well as the arts, history and politics. There was also a fair amount of fiction too and she recognized a few childhood favorites from her collection at home.

She couldn't bear to read them now. As for the non-fiction, what was the use in immersing herself in knowledge? Unless one of the books contained detailed instructions on how to knock down a stone wall with no magic or construction equipment, she would never be able to put any of that information into practice...

But she needed to find some way to distract herself from the pangs of hunger gnawing at her stomach.

When she sat down to her birthday meal two days prior, she hadn't had any idea she was eating her last supper. She hadn't even been able to fully enjoy it at the time, wishing that the dead Sabrina could have been there so they could celebrate together. She would give anything to taste Aunt Hilda's home cooking now.

No, she would give anything to be able to see Aunt Hilda now. And Aunt Zee, and Ambrose, and Nick, and the rest of them...

And Sabrina Morningstar. The real her, not just the reflection of her face. If only she could see her smile. If only she could talk to her, _hear_ from her...

She blinked away a few more tears as she continued shuffling through all the books, until she came across one that caught her eye in particular. It appeared to be a journal, plain and bound in red leather, and looked well-used.

Upon opening it, she was greeted with pages and pages of Sabrina's handwriting, a date at the top of each. The last of which was on the day Morningstar had gone through the mirror, and the first dated earlier that year, on the same date which she and Sabrina had split...

This was Sabrina Morningstar's personal diary. One which she had kept and by the looks of things, updated frequently while ruling as Queen of Hell.

As Sabrina sat there clutching the journal, she mentally argued with herself over whether she should read it. It would be a huge violation of her dead self's privacy. She would be mortified if it was her diary being picked up and read through, even after her death, so she knew the other Sabrina would be equally upset. They were the same person, after all.

But if that was the case, was it truly an invasion of her privacy? They had once shared the same mind and same thoughts. Whatever Sabrina Morningstar had written in this was surely exactly the same thing she would have written had their positions been swapped.

Yet still, she felt like she had barely gotten the chance to know her other self. Their time together as two separates had been meaningful but brief. There had been so much she had wanted to ask the other Sabrina but had never gotten the chance to.

What had her time in Hell really been like? How had she and Lucifer buried the hatchet with each other? How in Satan's name had she managed to fall in love with Caliban? And had she truly been happy there?

These questions fascinated her, partially because she was interested to hear what it had been like for Sabrina herself, but also because she wanted to gain an insight into how life would have been if she had chosen otherwise.

Her curiosity won out. Turning to the very first page of the diary, she began to read.

_What have I done?_

_It happened. I won the last challenge of the Unholy Regalia and became Queen of Hell. I think it might have been the biggest mistake of my life._

_Getting Judas's fifty pieces of silver was more simple than I thought it would be. Judas himself told me where to find them. I had to raid Vlad the Impaler's tomb for them and he tried to drink my blood (turns out he really WAS a vampire!) but luckily he's allergic to angelic blood. I can thank my father for that much anyway._

_But when I was on my way back to Judas, something really weird happened. I was approached by...myself? She claimed to be me from the future. She said Caliban had disguised himself as Judas and would steal my coins and trap me in the Ninth Circle forever. She said it already happened to her!_

_Crazy as it sounds, I believed her. I've time travelled before so it's not like what she was saying was impossible._

_Anyway, I suggested we merge. If that's even possible? I mean, she'd delivered her warning and it's not like there could be two of us running around. Aunt Zee would lose her mind. But the other Sabrina had a different idea. She said she just wanted to go home after everything she'd experienced in the future. I could understand that. Whatever she went through must have been awful._

_So she suggested we remain split. She would go back to Earth and resume our mortal life there, while I claim the Unholy Regalia for myself and become Queen of Hell like Father wanted. We'd be able to have it all then, right? I agreed. That was the mistake. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't think ahead._

_She turned out to be correct about Caliban. It WAS him pretending to be Judas. So I trapped him in that stone like he'd been planning on doing to me. I don't know what I'm going to do about him in the long run but I think I'll leave him there for now._

_I went back to the throne room and announced my victory, and Lilith got me ready for the coronation. She put me in this huge hideous gown that looked like something Elizabeth I would have worn, and completely caked me in make-up. I hope I'm not going to be expected to dress like that everyday!_

_She gave me this speech as well, about me being the pride of Satan and how I should let no man touch me. Given me and Nick are history, I think I can live with that._

_Then I walked out into the throne room and everyone fell to their knees and it just seemed unreal. All those demons were cheering for Caliban a few hours earlier and now they were bowing before me! It seemed amazing at the time._

_It wasn't until I was standing on the dais at my father's side that I started to have regrets._

_There's no going back now. I've been crowned Queen of Hell. I have to stay here and be a queen to my new kingdom. And I can't even go back to Earth to visit everyone because the other Sabrina will be there. No one can find out there's two of us. Even us meeting again might cause a paradox._

_I know I agreed to this arrangement but I can't help feeling resentful towards her. She's free now. She gets to live the easier life with everyone while I'm trapped down here, surrounded by strangers and enemies. I feel so...lost. So alone._

_Father congratulated me when I said I'd won the Regalia but he's hardly spoken a word to me since. Even when we were standing on the balcony together, I swear I could feel him glaring at me. He's still angry with me for overthrowing him, I know it._

_I don't think he's going to let it slide. He's going to make my life a living hell down here._

_Then there's Lilith. She's acting supportive but I know better than to trust her. I just know she's planning something. She always is._

_She's pregnant with Lucifer's child now. I don't even want to know the full details of how THAT happened. She's claiming it's a boy and that doesn't bode well for me. What will happen once the new kid is born? Lucifer won't need me any more._

_I wouldn't be surprised if he intends to off me as soon as my future brother comes of age. Or maybe he'll stick me next to Caliban in the Ninth Circle._

_He doesn't care about me and I don't care for him. Yet I chose him over my Aunties and Ambrose._

_Why did I do it? Why did I agree to give up everything on such a whim? Why did I trade my true family and friends for this literal Hell?_

_I can only blame myself. Literally. That other Sabrina has taken everything I love. Was she even truly me? Could she have been some imposter or doppelgänger like the mandrake? Could Lucifer have sent her, to make sure I took the throne?_

_I don't know and I don't have anyone I can confide in any more._

_So I decided to start this diary. I've enchanted it so only I can read it, obviously. Otherwise my father or Lilith would probably come across it while snooping through my things. I wouldn't put it past either of them._

_I can't trust anyone here._

Sabrina went cold as she read the entry, a heavy weight settling in her chest. It was the weight of overwhelming guilt.

Just as she had been able to feel the enthusiasm in her counterpart's spellbooks, she could feel the hopelessness in this diary page. She could imagine how lost and frightened Sabrina Morningstar must have felt as she wrote it, feeling like she had cut herself off from everyone she knew and loved.

She would have felt the same way had it been her. Because in a way, it _was_ her.

Just as Sabrina Morningstar hadn't thought about what agreeing to the split would mean for her, Sabrina Spellman hadn't thought about what she was letting her other self in for either...or maybe she just hadn't cared, psyched as she was to find an apparent solution to her dilemma.

She'd been selfish and manipulative, she saw it now. She'd remembered how she'd felt when she had just gotten the fifty pieces of silver; fully prepared to step up as Queen of Hell, everything she loved on Earth temporarily forgotten.

It hadn't lasted for her. Of course it wouldn't have lasted for Sabrina Morningstar either.

If they had remained as one, then maybe some compromise could have been reached; some way for her to rule Hell and still remain part of her Earthly life like she had originally planned. But as two separate entities, they had been forced to go their separate ways. Sabrina Spellman had felt safe in the knowledge that Lucifer wasn't going to appear and drag her back to face her responsibilities in Hell.

That part of her life had been foisted upon Sabrina Morningstar and there was no way for her to go back on the agreement after it was struck. No wonder she had been resentful.

But she had found some kind of happiness eventually, hadn't she? Sabrina flicked through the next couple of pages, heart sinking further as she scanned the entries and saw much of the same sentiments.

A dull acceptance seemed to have settled in Sabrina Morningstar as she described her new duties as Queen. She received petitions from her demonic subjects, collected the souls of mortals who had made deals with Lucifer, held meetings with the aristocracy, and made public appearances before the masses.

It seemed Lucifer had accompanied her for much of it but things had remained distant between them, and she was growing increasingly worried about his intentions.

It wasn't until Sabrina reached an entry dated nearly a week after the coronation that any real development was made. With it came a dramatic shift in Morningstar's tone.

_Something very unexpected happened today._

_It had been relatively normal for the most part. I had to answer about a hundred petitions from the demonic horde and it was all standard stuff, like resolving disputes over soul ownership. They all accepted my judgement without question._

_I suppose it helps that Father was there, ready to snap the neck of anyone who dared question me. He has a reputation to uphold after all._

_Anyway, after that long day, Father and I sat down to dinner as usual. He's normally fairly quiet whenever we eat together unless any of the other nobles join us, in which case he'll talk to them about political matters while pretty much ignoring me and Lilith._

_It was just us today. No Lilith either. So I wasn't expecting a lot in the way of conversation. He asked me a few standard questions about how my day at court had gone and I answered as expected._

_Then he asked me if I was happy here._

_I'll admit, I was taken aback. It's the first time he's ever asked me anything like that. Usually whenever he talks to me, he only ever wants to talk about Hell or the throne or himself._

_I told him what I thought he wanted to hear at first. That of course I was happy. To which he said, and I quote “I am the Father of Lies, Sabrina. I can tell when you're lying to me and right now, you are lying. Tell me the truth.”_

_It sounds hostile on paper but he didn't seem angry as he said it. He actually seemed concerned!_

_So (and this is pretty embarrassing to admit) I broke down a bit then. I started spilling all kinds of insecurities, like how I missed my family on Earth, how I wasn't sure I was even suitable to be Queen of Hell, how I was scared Lilith's son would replace me, and how he seemed to still be angry with me (I said nothing about the other Sabrina though!)_

_I was expecting him to scoff and tell me to pull myself together, along with some spiel about how queens don't cry like Lilith said. But he was actually quite sweet about it. He said he didn't like seeing me unhappy. He wanted me to be able to see this place as my home and him as my father._

_He admitted he had been a bit distant towards me and said it was because he was suspicious of how eagerly I had stepped up to take the crown. He thought I might have still been planning something._

_I mean, he wasn't wrong. But it isn't like I've been plotting against HIM. Anyway, I said as much and he seemed to believe me._

_He also said that he was truly impressed with how well I was doing as queen. That he hadn't had to help me as much as he thought he would and that it was like I had been born for the role, because I was._

_According to him, the line of succession is different in Hell to how it generally is on Earth. Here, the crown passes to the firstborn regardless of gender. My brother will be a king of Hell when he comes of age but I will always be THE queen and nothing will change that._

_I don't know if I believe him. He might just be saying that to placate me now. There's never really been a line of succession before since Lucifer's always been the ruler. If he decides he wants his son to rule instead of his rebellious daughter, what is there to stop him removing me?_

_By whatever means possible..._

_He noticed I still seemed a bit down. To my amazement, he then offered me the opportunity to visit Greendale and see my friends and family again. He said he didn't like me involving myself with them but if it would cheer me up than he would allow me occasional visits._

_I wanted to accept it, more than anything. I miss the Aunties and Ambrose, and Salem, and Roz, Theo and Harvey so much. I even miss Nick! But I can't see them. SHE'S there and I can't risk letting them find out._

_So I declined. I said I was grateful to him for offering but I'm in Hell now. This is my home, he's my family, and I need to let go of my old life if I really want to be able to embrace the new._

_He absolutely loved hearing that. He said he was proud of me and that his only regret was that he hadn't been able to raise me himself. He couldn't entirely blame me for rebelling against him when I didn't even know him as my father. He proposed we put all of our former conflicts behind us and start over together, as a proper family._

_Oh, and he also said he wants me to call him “Dad,” in private, like we agreed on at my first coronation._

_I was only calling him that to try and sweeten him up, but if it will help now...? It still seems really weird calling him Dad though! It will take some getting used to._

_I still don't know if I can trust him. Maybe this is all a huge deception on his part. But I feel like I can handle being around him more now. In time, I might even be able to see him as family._

_Maybe I'm not quite as alone as I thought I was. But I still don't have any real friends. I really miss being with people my own age, or at least people who seem like they might be my age._

_And I miss being treated as an equal. My two handmaidens, Jezebel and Athaliah, are nice enough but they can never speak their mind to me. It's the same with all the young (looking) demonic nobles that I've hung out with. They agree with everything I say, they laugh at my every joke but never at me, and they echo my every thought and interest._

_I won't lie, it was fun at first. But it got boring really quickly. I wish I had someone who actually likes me for being myself, not just for being Queen of Hell. Someone who isn't afraid to challenge me..._

_For some reason, all my thoughts keep drifting back to Caliban. As far as I know, he's still trapped where I left him in the Ninth Circle. I know it would be wiser to leave him there. He was willing to do the same to me._

_But it just doesn't seem right. Just like I didn't feel great about leaving him behind at Golgotha, I don't feel great about leaving him down there forever. I don't know if I want him on my conscious for the rest of eternity. I feel like he's going to always be at the back of my mind, calling me “princess.”_

_He took forty lashes for me. He can't be completely evil if he was willing to do such a selfless thing. Not evil enough to deserve to be petrified in stone for all eternity anyway. The more I think about it, the more I think I should free him._

_What to do?_

Sabrina stared down at the page, mind whirring as she tried to reconcile the Lucifer she was reading about with the Lucifer she knew. They didn't seem like they could be the same person. In this diary entry, he sounded...like an actual father. Maybe still a bit narcissistic, and rather possessive, but it sounded like he truly had cared for Sabrina Morningstar.

Sabrina tried to imagine a world in which he would ever show any kind of concern towards her. She couldn't.

To Sabrina Morningstar, he had been a dad.

To Sabrina Spellman, he was a sociopathic monster. Her rapist. Her murderer...

She couldn't help but despair over the other Sabrina's naivety regarding Caliban. Perhaps it had been easier for _her_ to sympathize with him when she hadn't lived through his betrayal. When she hadn't been the one to end up trapped in the volcanic wall, helpless to do anything as he stroked her face and told her of his intentions to enslave humanity.

She only remembered him as the arrogant yet seemingly honorable prince who had challenged her for her crown, but had also seemed willing to compromise with her on occasion. She never had to see the side of him that Sabrina Spellman had.

She scanned through the next few pages, which were noticeably more upbeat than the first two she had read. Sabrina Morningstar seemed to be acclimatizing to Hell better now she had her father's love, and was gradually coming to trust him more.

By the sounds of things, he spoiled her absolutely rotten; ensuring that her every whim was catered to and lavishing her with all kinds of gifts, including a new queenly wardrobe of designer gowns and priceless jewelry, and a hellhound puppy, after noticing she hadn't brought Salem with her.

Despite being more of a cat person, she had adored the puppy and named her Salome. She'd also had fun dressing herself up to the nines at first, but had gradually drifted back to wearing casual clothes once the novelty wore off, finding them more comfortable.

Lucifer hadn't approved but tolerated it on the condition that she wore her gowns to the many royal functions they hosted. It seemed there was no end to the partying in Pandemonium. Masquerades, being Lucifer's favorite, were at least a weekly occurrence.

Sabrina would be presented on his arm, as the belle of the ball, and every eligible (and often non-eligible since monogamy wasn't a thing in Hell) lord clamoured for the chance to dance with their queen, during which they would try to woo her to no avail.

Proposals for her hand piled up, nearly always addressed to Lucifer instead of her. He would decline them on her behalf, apparently in no great hurry to marry her off yet, for which she was glad.

Even in the midst of all this, Sabrina Morningstar still felt rather lonely. The hordes of Hell seemed to adore her, but she was sure they only adored her for her crown and nothing more. She was weary of the simpering Ladies and pompous Lords of Hell, missing the more down-to-earth company of her mortal friends and even the snarky Prudence.

And she continued to frequently mention Caliban, debating over whether she should free him or not; weighing up everything that could go wrong, which was a lot, with everything that could go right, which was comparatively little.

Sabrina could tell right then and there that her counterpart had already matured during her time as queen...because she had never been the type to think too long about doing something before.

Yet their shared impulsive nature had prevailed in the end, as Sabrina knew it would. She eventually turned the page and was greeted with the inevitable entry, two months after Morningstar took the throne.

_I did it. I freed Caliban from the Ninth Circle._

_He wasn't too sore about it, all things considered. In fact, he pretty much begged me to forgive him._

_He says he never intended to leave me down here. He only wanted me out of the way until he had ensured his spot on the throne, defeated the pagans and established his Tenth Circle, he says. Then he would have come back to release me, he says._

_I don't know if I believe him. But I sternly told him there would be no Hell on Earth under my eternal rule and that if he tried to threaten it in any way again then he would be sealed back in that volcanic rock before he knew it._

_He just chuckled, saying, “I would deserve it for trying such a thing, my lady.”_

_Dad wasn't wholly onboard about my decision to free him but said it was my choice. He's granted him a position at court anyhow, and Caliban is now making it his priority to suck up to him at every opportunity._

_Lilith didn't say anything about it but I can tell she's mad. In fact, she hasn't spoken to me at all since Caliban and I strolled into the throne room together. Though she's in a foul mood anyway due to her morning sickness._

_I do feel bad for her. Morning sickness sounds hard enough even when carrying a normal baby, let alone Lucifer's! My poor Mom._

_Still, it sucks that I've lost Lilith's counsel. I could have done with the sisterly support, especially given how Dad and Caliban seem to be becoming fast bros. I hope it doesn't come back to bite me. I didn't think those two would ever get along but I guess they do have a lot in common. Like a shared goal of turning Earth into the Tenth Circle..._

_Maybe freeing Caliban was a bad idea?_

Sabrina nearly face palmed as she read the last sentence, only stopping herself because her head was still aching. Freeing Caliban had been a terrible idea, she wanted to go back and tell herself. It was as plain as day. To her.

But not to Sabrina Morningstar. Freeing him seemed to have solved the last of her pressing problems in Hell; her need for companionship. As Sabrina read on, her counterpart's doubts over her rash decision soon faded as the two became inseparable.

Caliban, it seemed, was exactly what the young queen had needed in a friend and- as Sabrina Spellman was already finding obvious from looking at these entries, even if it hadn't been to Morningstar at the time- a lover.

He was polite, courteous, sweet at times...but never to the point of being disingenuous. Unlike the other hangers on that surrounded her, he was never afraid to voice his own opinions (the matter of the Tenth Circle remaining a point of contention between them) and Morningstar felt as though she could be herself with him, just as she had been with her friends on Earth.

And of course, he was wicked fun to be around. She was able to banter and fool around with him in a way she was unable to with her father. Lucifer had been rather irate to find himself being replaced as his daughter's principle dancing partner, so much that it had put a temporary dent in his and Caliban's camaraderie.

Sabrina came up with her own form of entertainment for Hell's aristocracy- prom night. She would never get the chance to experience her real prom, she sadly noted, but as Queen of Hell, it was in her power to recreate the experience as many times as she wanted. Now that she had her own prom king to enjoy it with, she wanted to hold it every free night.

Since she was the Queen, she always got what she wanted.

She and Caliban wowed their demonic subjects with their impeccable chemistry. There was never a more beautiful couple than them. Even Lucifer came to admit how well they worked together although he would usually exclude himself from the “prom” festivities, finding them too classless and juvenile for his own tastes.

Lilith ended up being the one to chaperone them on those nights, her own experience as a teacher making the task oddly fitting for her. Morningstar suspected (correctly, as Sabrina Spellman knew) that she disapproved of her choice of beau.

But Sabrina Morningstar was the Queen of Hell, not Lilith, and the only person she needed to answer to was her Father. Now that she and Caliban had his unholy blessing, it wasn't long before things proceeded to the next level.

_My hands are shaking so much while I'm writing this. I still feel all a daze. I've just had the most magical night of my life and I don't even know where to begin. So I'll get straight to the point._

_Caliban proposed. Again. And it was a proper proposal this time!_

_We were in the Garden of Infernal Delight, after we'd danced ourselves to the point of exhaustion (have I mentioned what a phenomenal dancer Caliban is? Yes, a billion times, I know) and gotten nicely tipsy on the punch (it's always spiked)._

_It's a far more romantic setting now Dad had all those flowers planted at my request. It actually looks like a proper garden now!_

_Anyway, we were making out as usual. Caliban is a way better kisser than Harvey or Nick but that's besides the point. I was a bit disappointed when he suddenly pulled away. He seemed nervous, which is very unlike him._

_He started telling me that he had never met any other woman like me, that we completed each other, that he couldn't imagine an eternity without me by his side. He says stuff like that quite a lot but it's usually in more of a flirty, tongue-in-cheek way. He seemed completely solemn now._

_I had a good idea where he was going by that point, though I didn't dare believe it. Until he knelt down in front of me, took my hand, and asked me, “Sabrina Morningstar, would you do me the most unholy honor of becoming my wife?”_

_I said no, of course. I mean, I'm sixteen! That's far too young to get married._ _If I marry him then next thing I know, Dad's going to be nagging me about grandchildren. I'm nowhere near ready for that. I need to live a little first._

_But to be honest, I can't ever see myself married to anyone other than Caliban. I'm the Queen. I could have anyone in this realm that I want for my consort yet I see no one else other than him._

_I will be his bride someday, just...not quite yet._

_So I told him that. I actually felt bad about it. He looked like a puppy who had been kicked. Though, he got this cheeky smile on his face when I said “not quite yet.” He'll probably propose again next week._

_But it didn't end there. I couldn't let it end there. I might not be ready to marry him yet but I was ready to become serious with him. I always wanted my first time to be special. Nick thought I was saving myself for Harvey but he was wrong._

_All along, I was saving myself for Caliban. I just didn't realize it until now._

_He had to really force himself to show restraint when I made my desires known, bless him. I could tell he was as thirsty (or whatever slang term they're using on Earth now. It's probably changed already) as all Heaven but he was such a gentleman, especially when I admitted I was still a virgin._

_He said he would be deeply honored to be my first, but was I certain I was ready? Was I sure I didn't want to wait until marriage? He didn't want to be guilty of defiling his queen._

_I told him I didn't care about that. The “saving-yourself-for-marriage” thing is already a relic of the past on Earth among mortals, and this is HELL. The other nobles participate in nightly orgies so why should propriety matter to us? Usually he or Dad are the ones to point that out to me! He couldn't argue with that._

_So we did it. We made love, out there in the Garden, under the blood moon. And...it was perfect._

_I was a bit tense to begin with. I've heard the first time can hurt. Prudence told me she couldn't walk straight for a couple of days after her cherry was popped. Waaaay too much information but that's Prudence for you._

_Caliban didn't hurt me at all though. I always thought he'd be more of the rough type, which he probably is. But he took it slow for the first time. He used his fingers and tongue on me first, and it was amazing. I had already climaxed several times before he even entered me._

_I was quite tender afterwards but I just wanted to do it again and again, so we did, and...geez, I sound like one of Aunt Hilda's trashy novels._

_What would she say if she knew? And don't get me started on Aunt Zee. She would murder me. She was all for me hooking up with Nick but I don't think she'd approve of a Prince of Hell._

_It doesn't matter though. Her and Aunt Hilda and Ambrose will always hold a special place in my heart but they're not really my family any more. They're hers._

_There's still occasions where I feel like I might return to them, like this time in Hell is all a long holiday that will come to an end and normal life will resume. But the feeling is getting less frequent as time goes by._

_Hell is my home. I have Dad now. The other Sabrina has Aunt Zelda and Aunt Hilda._

_Sometimes I think about her and wonder how she's doing. My life on Earth was a mess when I left. She was the one who had to pick up the pieces. I hope she and our Aunties are OK. I hope she's managed to find happiness like I have. And even if her and Nick don't get back together, I hope she's able to move on and find love with someone else, like I have._

_I never thought it could happen. I never thought I could find love again after I broke up with Harvey. I never thought I could find love again after Nick broke up with me. I definitely never thought I'd find love in Hell._

_But I think I have. No, I know I have. I love Caliban. I love him more than I ever loved Harvey or Nick._

_And if it's possible for a demon to love then I think he might love me too. I'm sorry I couldn't bring myself to give him the answer he wanted. But maybe one day, I will._

Sabrina found her other half's doe-eyed recollections of Caliban extremely jarring to read. Once again, she was finding it difficult to identify the perfect, chivalrous lover that Morningstar described with the sadist who had brutally raped her.

Then again, that was the true essence of chivalry at its core. Placing some women, the good _ladies,_ on pedestals, and treating the rest of them like dirt.

She startled when she came across the mention of herself, but relaxed slightly as she took the words in. All of the hostility Morningstar expressed towards her in the first entry was a thing of the past. She had come to accept her new life, even its pitfalls, and no longer resented her counterpart for it. Sabrina Morningstar had found happiness in Hell and Sabrina Spellman was glad.

Her positivity dulled when she remembered that it was all going to come crashing down. No matter how happy the other Sabrina had been in life, it didn't change the fact that she was now dead.

The dates on the journal were steadily creeping closer to the present day. Her sense of foreboding increased as she read on, reading the entries that had been written in blissful ignorance of what was to come, and she was dreading the moment where they would run out altogether.

As Morningstar guessed, Caliban took her declaration of “not quite yet” very literally. He began proposing to her on a regular basis, always in private (which she appreciated) and graciously accepting her rejection each time, until it became something of a running joke between them.

Their opposing ideas of what their relationship status should be did nothing to hinder their passion for one another. On the contrary, they became closer than ever.

All the fellow demons at court were beginning to whisper about their relationship, speculating on when the two of them were going to announce their engagement. Morningstar noted that even Lucifer was starting to drop hints as to a possible wedding, deducing Caliban had already asked him for her hand and been approved.

While Sabrina Morningstar remained a maiden, she was in no way chaste. Her and Caliban continued to engage in carnal relations on a regular basis and she became more adventurous, though he remained ever respectful of her boundaries. The young queen was happy as things were and in no rush to put a ring on her finger.

Sabrina was beginning to wonder just what had caused her counterpart to cave, even worrying that Lucifer and Caliban may have forced her into the marriage and that Sabrina's excitement over it had all been an act.

As she turned the page and was met with a new entry dated only a month prior, she now saw familiar events being recounted.

_She came to visit me in Hell! The other Sabrina, after all these months! I was starting to think I'd never hear from her again. I was beginning to think my whole encounter with her was just some crazy hallucination._

_But she walked in and sidled straight up to me._ _I didn't realize it was her at first. She'd glamored herself to look like Lilith's minion. I was wondering why the Heaven he suddenly wanted to talk to me about “staff.”_

_Then he said to me, “No, Sabrina. It's me, Sabrina,” and it clicked._

_I gave her a big hug right there. Maybe I shouldn't have done that? Paradoxes aside, it must have looked suspicious. But I couldn't contain myself. I was so excited that we could finally catch up with each other._

_It turns out she came because there's a pool of darkness in the mines threatening to destroy the world._

_I should have figured she wasn't coming down for a social visit. I agreed to help her, of course. What kind of...twin? Clone? Past self?- would I be if I refused to help my own self? And Hell might be my home now but Earth was where I spent my first sixteen years. Most of the people I love are living there. No dark abomination is going to destroy it on my watch._

_I'm glad she's OK for now, though I do wonder whether she's truly happy or not. She said she was living her best life but she seems sad for some reason. I don't think things are working out for her on Earth._

_I feel bad that I ever resented her. If anything, she's probably the one resenting me now. My life must look like a constant party to her. It isn't, but I didn't have time to get into that..._

Sabrina's insides squirmed as she read that part. Sabrina Morningstar had pitied her. Of course she had. She was the Queen of Hell with the perfect fiance and the doting dad, while Sabrina Spellman was...just as Caliban had said, nothing. A failure in comparison to her infernal counterpart, the walking proof that she had made the right decision by staying in Hell.

Despite her pity, Morningstar had been happy to see her counterpart again after so long.

Yet their subsequent encounter with the Darkness and hearing of the other approaching Eldritch Terrors brought about a sudden change in her priorities. Sabrina's stomach jolted as she went to the next entry, which was far more subdued in tone than her previous one, ending with what seemed to be a direct premonition of Morningstar's own doom.

_...I saw an eternity of ruling Hell laid out before me. It was daunting, yet comforting too. But I can't see it any more. I've overcome so many threats before but these Eldritch Terrors are something entirely different. I don't know if Sabrina and I will be able to beat them. I don't know if we can survive this. Maybe there isn't an eternity ahead of me. Maybe there's only a few weeks, if that. That's why I need to make every moment count. I can't think about the future when there might not even be one. I must live for the present._

Caliban had been both surprised and delighted when he made his standard proposal to Sabrina Morningstar the night after and she had finally said yes. He'd been even more astounded, as had her father, when she'd demanded that she and Caliban marry as soon as possible.

Lucifer had nonetheless been pleased his darling daughter had at last chosen a match he deemed halfway worthy. He'd accommodated her wishes, scheduling the wedding for the following week and sparing no expense.

The preparations went smoothly in spite of the tight deadline.

Invites were sent to all the highest demons in Hell, all of whom immediately cleared their itineraries to attend. A team of demonic seamstresses worked tirelessly on Sabrina's dream bridal gown for which she had a very specific vision in mind, and she was overjoyed with the results. She, Caliban and Lucifer managed to reach an agreement on music arrangements despite their clashing tastes. Sabrina had even managed to find the perfect wedding cake, a heavenly- or hellish- confection of rich dark chocolate that came close to Aunt Hilda's capabilities.

The main spanner in the works ended up being her Earthly counterpart, Sabrina Spellman herself.

Sabrina cringed as she read Morningstar's own account of the trick she, Lilith and Prudence had played on Caliban. First in embarrassment then in outright shame.

As it turned out, her actions had caused more trouble for the other Sabrina than she had let on. His bride-to-be omitting to tell him there were two of her had been a far greater offence to Caliban than the unreasonable “sacrifice” that Sabrina had demanded he make, and their ensuing argument had left Morningstar in tears.

She didn't mention them in her entry, but Sabrina could tell from the blurred splotches on the page.

_...He's never gotten angry with me before but now he's livid. He remained as civil as always, didn't so much as raise his voice, but I could hear his disappointment at me and I could see it in his eyes._ _He wants to know what else I'm keeping from him. He won't believe me when I tell him there isn't anything else. He says he doesn't think he can trust me any more._

_So I asked him if I should call off the wedding, to which he said all accusingly, “You would cast me off after what I just did for you?”_

_I tried to tell him that wasn't what I meant and that of course I want to marry him, I just wasn't sure he'd still want to marry ME. But he disappeared in a whirl of flames before I got the chance._

_I can't blame him for being mad. And I can't blame Sabrina for doing what she did either. I'm pretty sure Lilith put her up to it, and I probably would have done the same thing if I was her. I am her._

_The only person I can really blame is me. I should have told him myself when we got engaged. At the very least, I should have told him when Sabrina came back into my life. I meant to tell him! But I didn't even know how I could begin to explain something like that! I put it off and put it off, and now it's too late for transparency._

_How could I be so stupid? How can I rule an entire realm when my personal life is such a mess? I was right before. I'm way too young and immature to get married. I guess I should tell Dad he needs to cancel the wedding. I hope he's not too mad._

But contrary to what Sabrina Morningstar feared, Sabrina Spellman's petty efforts hadn't been enough to stop the wedding. According to a far happier entry later on the same day, Caliban had soon returned, overcome with remorse for his harsh words and pleading her forgiveness. She had readily accepted, apologizing in turn for deceiving him and for her counterpart's cruel prank.

He also accepted, though he had made the suggestive “joke” that both Sabrina's “make it up” to him. Knowing what she knew, Sabrina wasn't sure it had been a joke at all. Yet Morningstar had clearly taken it as such, privately lamenting his chauvinistic sense of humor and putting it down to him spending too much time in Lucifer's company.

The wedding had proceeded as planned. Sabrina Morningstar had been determined to get her happily ever after, no matter how short the “ever after” ended up being, and she had gotten it.

Even so, she was painfully aware of the sad truth that her life was no fairytale.

_Caliban and I are now officially husband and wife. Today was our wedding day. It should have been the happiest day of my life. I am happy, don't get me wrong. But it didn't go at all how I planned._

_For starters, Dad finally found out there's two of me. Sabrina turned up to my wedding with one of the Eldritch Terrors (long story) and he walked in on us while we were discussing what to do with it (we ended up trapping it in our dollhouse. Poor Sabrina had to marry it in order to lure it in there!)_

_He wasn't as angry about the split as I feared he would be. Yet somehow, his reaction was worse than I feared. Once we had trapped the Eldritch Terror, he said the most horrible things to Sabrina. He called her an interloper and a “false daughter” and banished her from Hell, forbidding us from ever meeting again._

_It hurt to hear him reject her like that. Not only on her behalf but on my own behalf too, because she IS me. By rejecting her, I feel like he's rejecting part of me. The mortal part of me, the Earthly part of me, which will always be there even now that I'm Queen of Hell._

_I tried to tell him that afterwards. I tried to explain she's literally the same person as me, just from a few hours into the future. It was like he wasn't even listening. I don't think he could even comprehend it. I know he cares for me in his own way but he's such a narcissist._

_It's like he thinks everyone disappears the moment they stop interacting with him. He can't even fathom the idea of someone leading a life that doesn't revolve around him. Especially not me._

_I eventually got so frustrated with his inability to understand that I became quite emotional, which didn't help my case. He wouldn't hear my arguments any more after that. He just told me to perk up because it was my wedding night and I should be happy, before leaving me with Caliban._

_I don't think Caliban really understands either. He doesn't seem to like Sabrina much as it is, which I guess I can understand given the prank she played on him. He might have also figured out that she was the one who warned me of his plan to trap me._

_He wouldn't be married to me now if his plan had succeeded. As disturbing as it is, I can't help but wonder if he still wishes he had managed to trap me. Whether even now, he still pines for the throne and plots against my family._

_He still holds consul with Beelzebub and Asmodeus. They tried to KILL me. They grovel and claim they've seen the error of their ways now, but I wasn't born yesterday._

_They hate me. They hate Lucifer, they hate Lilith, they hate my unborn brother, they hate everything the Morningstar represents. Yet they follow Caliban around like a pair of hellhounds. I know they're pouring their poison into his ears. I only hope he doesn't listen. But I suspect he does._

_This is my life now, this nest of vipers. And I love it._

_I love Hell. I love Caliban, and I love Dad. Even though they are both terrible people who have done countless unforgivable things to others, to innocents, I'm somehow able to overlook it so long as their cruelty doesn't extend to me. Does that make me a terrible person too?_

_I think it does. It didn't even matter until now because I live in Hell. Not on Earth. There, I tried to do good. Here, I don't need to. It isn't my job._

_Sabrina doesn't know half of what's been going on down here. What I've done. We couldn't even bring ourselves to condemn Robert Robertson when we were still as one._

_She hasn't seen the countless souls I've dragged into eternal torment since then, and the barbarous sentences I've passed on the damned. If she knew then she would hate what I have become. What SHE would have become, if our places had been swapped._

_Wrong as he is about everything else, I think Dad may have been right to force me and Sabrina apart. But I fear it might already be too late._

_As much as I love Sabrina, we never should have reunited. We are one and the same, but the worlds we live in are too incompatible. Nothing good can come from entwining them once more._

_In the end, we will only poison one another._

Tears came to Sabrina's eyes. She remembered how joyful Sabrina Morningstar had seemed on her wedding night, when she had hugged her goodbye and told her she had made her own happiness. But if their shared encounter with the Darkness had taught them anything, then it was that her counterpart kept her inner demons close to her chest.

Sabrina had consoled her back then, trying to dismiss all of Morningstar's doubts, which she had been sure were unfounded.

Yet she knew most of the doubts expressed in this diary entry were completely justified. Possibly more than the now-dead girl had realized while writing them.

There were only a few filled pages left to go, the rest of the journal being blank. Sabrina's heart thudded as she read through them, resisting the urge to skip to the last. She didn't know what she was even expecting to find on the last page.

She knew how the story ended. There would be no surprise twist waiting for her, no sudden deus ex machina that would swoop in to save her. The only deus ex machina they'd received had tried to kill them. And indirectly succeeded.

In contrast to the woe that Morningstar had expressed on her wedding night, most of the entries following it were rather optimistic. The young bride had settled into married life well. The argument that she and Caliban had before their wedding proved to be an anomaly in their relationship, for they remained united in everything else and as passionate about each other as always.

Likewise, things soon returned to normal between her and Lucifer. They still had occasional disagreements, mostly regarding his sudden impatience for grandchildren, but nothing more was said about Sabrina Spellman and it was better that way.

Life in Hell went on, and it seemed she truly had managed to make her own happiness.

She had been given precious little time to enjoy it.

Only a fortnight after her wedding to Caliban, Sabrina Morningstar had written what would turn out to be her final entry. It was dated on the same day that she went through the mirror to her death.

_What have we done?_

_It's happening. The very worry that was nagging at the back of my mind from the moment Sabrina and I split in two. I was hoping we were off the hook after all this time._

_But I was wrong. We were wrong. Now the cosmos itself is crumbling because of me and her. Hell is crashing into Earth and the Earth is crashing into Hell, and I think our meeting was what caused it._

_This could be the end of the world if not the whole universe. I don't know what we can possibly do to fix this. I don't think even Dad knows. But he says the first thing we need to do is go to Sabrina's family and tell them the truth. I never imagined I'd ever hear him advocate for honesty._

_Then again, I never imagined any of THIS happening either. Me being Queen of Hell, marrying the love of my life, there being two of me, our insane actions causing the universe to self-destruct._

_I would say something about it being crazy what life throws at you but really, I've thrown most of this at myself._

_It's time for me to face up to my actions. It's the right thing to do. It's what a queen should do. I need to be strong and brave and honorable, and I will be. But I'm also scared._

_I'm not looking forward to the scolding I'm going to get from Aunt Zee when we tell her what Sabrina and I have done, but that's not what's causing the sense of impending doom I have now. There's something else, something...darker. I feel like there are invisible walls closing in on me._

_I want to believe everything will turn out fine. That the Aunties will know what to do. Or Ambrose. He seems to know everything. But Dad is far more ancient than any of them and as obtuse as he can be, he knows a lot more. Yet this seems to be beyond even him. I can tell he's nearly as anxious as I am, even though he's keeping it hidden._

_I think there's only one way to fix the problem Sabrina and I have caused. If I'm right, then this entry will be my last._

_I pray to Father that it isn't._

It was followed by pages of nothingness.

Nothingness, just like the pitiless Void who had ultimately claimed Sabrina Morningstar's life. Nothingness, which was all Sabrina Spellman would have to look forward to for the short remainder of hers.

She wept over the diary for a long while after she had finished, holding it to her heart as if to embrace the one who had written it. For the few hours that Sabrina had taken to read it, she had almost felt as though Sabrina Morningstar was there in the tomb with her, speaking to her directly.

Now that she had reached the end, the imaginary ghost was gone and she had been left on her own once more.

Then again, she had been all along.

She placed the journal back where she found it, still wiping away her tears. It was too tempting to pour over it and take in every word, every detail that her dead counterpart had left behind. But as strangely comforted as Sabrina felt while reading it, the chasm that it had left in her was unbearable, as was the grief.

As she looked around her prison at all the belongings that were once Morningstar's, she could feel her heart breaking. It had seemed morbidly disconcerting to be around them before, knowing their owner was dead. Now that she had read the dead queen's recollections of life in Hell, each and every item took on a new meaning. Many of them had been mentioned in her diary.

There were the spellbooks she had indeed written with Lucifer's help. And the piano Sabrina Spellman had so blithely plunked on the day before, which Sabrina Morningstar had mastered and often accompanied her songs with, much to her father's pride. The game boards, which she would play on with Lilith or her handmaidens, the latter of whom always let her win.

Even the chaise lounge Sabrina had slept on the last couple of nights became tainted, for Morningstar had recounted frequently snuggling up with Caliban on it...among other things.

Sabrina could no longer bring herself to touch anything in the tomb. She couldn't even _look_ at anything in here without being reminded of Sabrina Morningstar, least of all herself.

None of it was hers. What right did she have to it?

Retreating to a dark, empty corner of the tomb, Sabrina curled up and waited for death to claim her.

The days crawled by, at first. Every waking moment was spent trying to block out the thoughts in her head and the painful groans of hunger in her stomach.

Her dreams brought her no respite. Every time she slipped into sleep, her mind would replay Lucifer and Caliban's assault on her. It would force her to remember how they had violated and brutalized her, making her relive the experience over and over until she would finally awaken with a start, her entire body aching from the hard stone floor she lay on.

But as she gradually grew weaker from lack of nutrition, time began to pass indeterminably.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, rising only to drink the water she had collected from the vases. Even the smallest of movements exhausted her to the point of needing sleep, which became mercifully dreamless.

When she finally got down to the last drop in the last vase, her parched throat still yearning for more, she couldn't so much as summon up the energy to comb the room and see if she had missed any. It seemed like it would be far more effort than it was worth.

Every single little thing seemed like too much effort. Even as she lay there doing nothing, her heart raced as though she were running a marathon. It thudded loudly in her chest, its rapid rhythm and her shallow breaths the only sound she could hear in the silent tomb.

Her skin burned hot, yet no sweat formed on her brow, her body not even managing to summon up enough moisture for it.

Severe dehydration had set in. It couldn't be much longer now. She hoped it wasn't. She was counting each thumping beat of her heart until the moment it stopped beating altogether.

As a fiery fever burned at her, her dreams returned...or maybe they were hallucinations. It had become impossible to tell. Dreams and reality seemed to meld into one.

Sometimes she swore she could hear other people in the tomb with her, talking idly about the most mundane things. People who couldn't possibly be there.

She thought she heard Catie and Susan, two bitchy girls in her class at Baxter High (that seemed like another person's life now) whispering and snickering about something, probably her. She thought she might have heard Prudence, Agatha and the long-dead Dorcas join in their mockery. The girls' laughter rang in her ears, and she put her hands over them to try and block out the obnoxious cacophony.

Even that miniscule action was a strain to her unfueled muscles. But it did nothing to help, because the sound wasn't coming from her ears. It was in her own head.

Another time she woke up to hear what she thought were the voices of Aunt Zelda and Aunt Hilda, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Her heart surged, thinking for a brief moment that they had come to Hell to save her, had somehow broken into the tomb and were searching for her in the darkness.

She weakly called out to them, hoping they would find where she'd hidden herself. They continued talking as if she hadn't made a sound, idly conversing about the Order of Hecate.

Sabrina knew then that they weren't truly there. The real Aunties were in the mortal world; an entirely different realm from here, where she would never see their faces or hear their voices again. _These_ two disembodied voices were another figment of her imagination. Hearing them reminded her of just how much she missed everyone she had left behind.

She sobbed, not a single tear escaping her dried up eyes. She had none left.

Worst of all were the times when she would hear her false father and Caliban hunting her. Lucifer would shout at her, furious, while Caliban would jeer about all the depraved things they were going to do to her. She'd freeze up, petrified, waiting for their hands to seize her, to hurt her.

They never did. They too were simply the product of her imagination. The real Lucifer and Caliban had been satisfied in abandoning her to this fate, leaving her down here to die an excruciating death.

Sabrina was sure she couldn't be long for this world. Yet it seemed she would be driven into insanity by the time she left.

The illusions appeared to have reached a new fervor when she awoke to a blinding light, that she thought may have been her mind...or may have been the white light of the netherworld beckoning her home.

Then there came the sensation of a cold hand on her arm...which felt far too real for even her own chaotic mind to have conjured up.

“Sabrina? Wake up, child.” The voice in her ear was very familiar.

“Lil...” Sabrina's mouth was so dry she could barely even get a rasp out. She swallowed with great difficulty, thanks to the lack of saliva. “Lilith?”

Squinting in the light from the glowing orb in her awakener's hand (Sabrina had long since abandoned using her own lamp) she saw that it was indeed Lilith who was knelt at her side, peering down at her with an indistinguishable expression on her shadow-framed face.

She flinched, her eyes still adjusting. “What...what are you doing here?” she whispered, unsure if what she was seeing was real. “Are you a hallucination?”

Lilith took in the pitiful girl before her. “No, I'm very much real. Though judging from your raging fever, I'm not surprised you would think otherwise.”

“How did you get in here...?” Sabrina asked, still not wholly convinced. She would have definitely heard the sealed door being knocked down.

Lilith rolled her eyes slightly. “I teleported, of course. It took me nearly a week of focused counter-casting to break through the multitude of protection spells your father cast on this place.”

Sabrina could barely comprehend what Lilith had said, in her disorientated state, but one word in particular jumped out to her...and she despised it.

“He's not my father,” she said, as adamantly as one could when they were too weak to even speak.

Lilith pursed her lips. “Hmm. He hasn't acted like much of one, I'll admit. But I am afraid the world is filled with wicked fathers.”

Sabrina knew that yet she was nonetheless flabbergasted by Lilith's hypocrisy. She wasn't one to talk. “It's filled with wicked mothers too. Like you, _baby murderer,”_ she hissed.

Lilith was silent for a moment, the light in her hand flickering as it shook. For a moment, Sabrina thought she would teleport away again and leave her to her suffering. Or throttle her.

But when Lilith spoke, she was as placid as ever. “Yes, like me. I'm not proud of what I did. At the time, I thought it was the only way I could free Adam from his father's cruelty.” Despite her even tone, a tear ran down her cheek. She dabbed at it. “I was wrong about that. But it _is_ the only way I can free you. I'm sorry, Sabrina. I cannot save your life. But I can end your suffering.”

So she had come to kill her, not rescue her. But in a way, killing her _was_ rescuing her.

“How?”

Whatever it was, she would accept it gratefully. Anything, as long as it would bring her torment to a swift end.

Lilith produced a small vial from her red robes, holding it out to her. The liquid inside glistened in the dim light, clear and colorless as water.

“Drink this, and you will fall into a deep sleep from which you will never awake. It will be quick, painless and easy,” she promised.

Sabrina nodded her assent. Just the thought of being able to drink something, that even resembled water despite being lethal poison, was greatly appealing.

Desperate as she was to consume it, she didn't have the strength to take the vial. She was afraid it would slip through her trembling fingers if she tried, and shatter on the ground; and that precious death-giving substance, her last hope, would be lost.

Lilith moved closer with a sad tut, ready to bring the vial to her lips for her.

But as she leaned over her, she suddenly froze. The poison was still frustratingly far from Sabrina's mouth as Lilith stared down at her, distracted by something.

“Sabrina...did the Dark Lord unbind your magic before locking you in here?” she asked, a bemused frown overtaking her features.

Sabrina wanted to scream over the delay. “No...”

Did Lilith think her an idiot? If she still had her powers, she wouldn't be here! She would have teleported out long ago. Or at the very least, she would have conjured herself some soothing water. And right now, she would be summoning that blessed vial of poison towards herself so she could down it and put an end to her misery...

She couldn't reach it and Lilith appeared to have forgotten about giving it to her. The creases in her forehead were deepening as she surveyed her.

“Then why do I sense...?” she mused out loud, seemingly stumped. Then her eyes widened, gaze flicking to Sabrina's stomach. Her fingers apprehensively prodded at it, and even the light contact was agony to the girl. She winced as Lilith laid her palm fully on her abdomen.

She kept it there for a minute or so, pondering on something that Sabrina didn't know or care about, her brow still furrowed and eyes heavy with an indiscernible emotion.

“I was wrong, again. There may still be a way to save you,” she eventually said, and it was the worst thing Sabrina could have heard.

“I don't want to be saved. I just want to die!” she cried, though it came out as more of a croak.

She was so weak. So, so weak. Maybe it made no difference. Poison or no poison, she was at death's door. She could feel herself slipping away, Lilith's voice becoming distant.

“I thought that too, after Adam's death. Your Aunt Zelda was the one who discouraged me from ending my own life and gave me new hope. Don't abandon yours now,” she vaguely heard her say, a pair of feminine arms closing around her and scooping her up from the hard floor.

A second later, they were gone from the dark, coolly lit tomb.

They re-appeared before a roaring fire, its brightness enough to simultaneously dazzle Sabrina and yank her from her near-unconscious state. She blinked rapidly, almost blinded by the warm glow after living by the dull light of her lamp at the most.

Her head pounded and her eyes would have been streaming had there been any water left for it. Through her distorted vision, she could just about make out a tall, imposing figure sat before the fireplace.

They turned upon hearing the intrusion, rising from their chair, and Sabrina heard a voice she had hoped she would never have to hear again.

“Lilith, I thought I told you that I never want to see-” Lucifer sounded irate enough to begin with. He went abruptly quiet upon noticing her in Lilith's arms.

The short silence which followed was deafening. Sabrina's vision cleared enough during it to see that her false father's face had darkened in a deadly fury, his eyes burning red.

“You dare... _you DARE desecrate my daughter's tomb?_ ”

His rage was great and terrible, his voice having become a demonic roar, the flames flaring up behind him. Throwing his armchair back, he stormed towards them.

His wrath would be terrifying for anyone else to behold. Sabrina was too far gone to feel any real fear. She was unafraid of her father in this moment, knowing there was little he could do to her now. All she could feel towards him was disgust.

Lilith was the one who should have been afraid. Yet she stood firm, still holding Sabrina, remaining impressively composed even as her master advanced on her with the fire of damnation in his eyes.

“No, Dark Lord. I dare to try save the innocent lives of your remaining children,” she declared, and a sneer twisted Lucifer's ferocious features.

“That interloper is not my-” he began hotly, then halted both his tirade and his advance, the plurality of Lilith's words registering with him. “Wait... _children_?”

The fire in his eyes cooled somewhat as they wandered to Sabrina, whom he had hardly spared a glance so far. Though he didn't really look at her now either. His gaze was fully focused on her stomach, some kind of understanding dawning upon him.

“Yes, Dark Lord,” Lilith confirmed with a nod, when Lucifer looked back to her questioningly. “Sabrina is with child.”

 _Oh...I'm pregnant?_

Near delirious, Sabrina was confused. How could she be pregnant? She and Nick had always used protection, unless... _oh..._

It was Lucifer's child. She was pregnant, with her own father's child. The product of her violent rape. She would have felt revulsion, but now she only felt indifference. It didn't matter. Nothing would come of it. She was going to die, and the abomination in her womb would die with her.

Lucifer didn't appear to comprehend that judging by the way in which he strode forward, each step now laced with fervid determination instead of rage. He reached them in record time, huge hands coming to rest on Sabrina's belly.

A pained gasp escaped her as they pressed down on her sore abdomen, that neither he nor Lilith seemed to hear. He was too focused on whatever it was he could feel stirring within her.

“It's true. That celestial power....I can feel it growing inside her,” he breathed, eyes ablaze and monstrously handsome face alight with an impassioned greed.

An initial shiver of disgust had run through Sabrina at the feeling of his hands on her. Now she became detached for the most part. She could practically see her life flashing before her eyes, just as it was often said to before death, and his words brought up a seemingly random memory.

“All that power...all that rage...” she uttered feebly, glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling. Lucifer's head jerked to look at her, taking her face in properly. Apparently he had not expected her to talk.

She didn't even know why she was, but she continued anyway. “...Capable of anything...” she managed to get out, before she could say nothing more.

It could have been a lifetime ago, back when she and Sabrina Morningstar had still been as one. They... _she,_ hadn't had the heart to drag poor old Robert Robertson to Hell for the crime of wanting to be the world's best chess player. Jimmy Platt had been a different matter entirely. She had found a savage sense of triumphant justice in sending him to burn- the evil, psychopathic murderer of children he was.

Before that, she had seen being Queen of Hell as a necessary undertaking to ensure Nick's freedom. After that, she had begun to truly revel in it.

Lucifer had been able to sense the change in her straight away when she went to him afterwards, and he had been delighted when she told him what she had done. Even though they had transferred him into Blackwood after that, she was sure it had been a proud moment for him, seeing his daughter finally following in his infernal footsteps.

He certainly seemed to do a double take when he heard her familiar words now, staring down at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

She turned her gaze towards him, trying to decipher the alien expression he was wearing as he looked at her. But her eyes couldn't focus properly and it was a struggle to keep them open. Speaking seemed to have depleted whatever vitality she had left.

Each ragged breath she drew into her lungs hurt her chest, and each breath seemed less worth the effort. As did everything else.

Her eyes finally drifted shut, head lolling to the side. A hand shot out to support her.

“Sabrina!” Lucifer's voice was urgent, panicked.

He took her from Lilith's arms into his own, bringing his hand to her mouth, and she tried to summon up the energy to turn her head away. She stopped when she felt the sensation of water- cool, soothing, blissful water- on her lips.

“Here. Sabrina, daughter. Drink. Slowly now,” her father murmured to her, and Sabrina instinctively drank.

The water was pure ecstasy on her tongue. It was like Ambrosia, the essence of life itself. But it wasn't _enough_. She needed more, more, _more!_ She desperately lapped up every drop of liquid he was giving her, not caring about the indignity of it in her dehydrated state.

All she could prioritize was getting as much of the precious fluid into her system as she could.

He spoke to her soothingly as she drank; soft, nonsensical words of encouragement. She couldn't understand the sudden switch in demeanor but she was too engrossed in consuming the water to try and fathom it. Once she had drank a fair amount, her mouth finally felt a little less dry.

Yet every part of her still hurt and she was so very tired. His unexpected gift of water would ease her pathway to the netherworld but it didn't change that she was still well on her way there.

She slumped in his arms, eyes still shut, ready to sleep and never wake up.

Lucifer had other plans. Cradling her to his chest, he bellowed at someone- Lilith, or possibly one of the servants.

“Bring the best healers from the Pit. And from Earth, if you must! _Now!_ ”

Sabrina heard footsteps scurry away and felt her father carrying her somewhere with great purpose, his arms tight around her quivering form.

“Stay with me, daughter. Stay with me,” he urged her, and she was perplexed.

“I'm not...” she tried to say, but he shushed her.

Sabrina fell silent. She was too tired to speak anyway; on the verge of passing out.

It was a welcome relief when he laid her down on a luxuriously soft surface that might have been a bed, though she didn't open her eyes to see. The infernal crown was removed from her head, lifting some of the pressure she felt in her temple, and his hand stroked her hair.

She tensed as she remembered how he had done that before, only to then grip her scalp and throw her to the ground. He did no such thing now, his touch remaining gentle.

On edge as she was, Sabrina was overcome by exhaustion. She blacked out for what might have been a few seconds or a couple of minutes, only to be jolted awake by the sound of her father shouting again.

“ _Where are those healers?”_ His rage may have been an attempt to hide fear. But who was the fear even for?

She still didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to look at her False Father. She wished Lilith had let her down the poison instead of trying to “save” her.

It would have been better to die in her dark tomb with the Mother of Demons at her side than here, with the monster who had killed her. Why did Lilith do it? _Why?_

She felt something wet on her cheek and thought it was her own tears at first. Then she felt hot breath fanning her face, and her eyes instinctively flew open in shock.

She was lying on a gigantic four-poster bed with rich crimson draperies, in an opulent bedroom she guessed might be Lucifer's. He was pacing the foot of the bed in agitation, that foreign expression still on his face as he gazed at her.

Meanwhile, some kind of furry dark animal had jumped up next to her.

“Salem?” she gasped, without really thinking. The only thing the canine looking back at her had in common with her cat familiar was its color. It was similar in size and shape to a Rottweiler, pitch black with fiery red eyes.

Not Salem. _Salome_. The hellhound “puppy” who had belonged to Sabrina Morningstar. The hounds of Hell were known to be vicious and extremely aggressive towards strangers but this dog seemed anything but. She was as soppy and harmless as any pet Labrador, tail wagging excitedly as she licked Sabrina's face.

Sabrina knew why.

Salome recognized her scent. She thought Sabrina was her dead mistress.

“Good girl...” she whispered, wishing she had the strength to reach out and pet the loyal beast. But she had none left.

The red glow of the hellish creature's eyes seemed comforting rather than intimidating, and Sabrina chose to focus on them, instead of on the burning eyes of her Father whom she could still feel staring down at her.

It was their unconditional love and adoration that Sabrina saw as unconsciousness overtook her once again, and she descended into darkness and peace once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT A PREGNANCY FIC. Let me say that first and foremost.  
> Is there any hint of evidence in canon that Sabrina Morningstar had a pet hellhound? Nope. But I thought she deserved a pet since Sabrina Spellman kept Salem. Who knows, Salome might have been the hellhound that Lucifer wanted to suckle Adam.  
> I'm going to admit, I'm used to writing dark angsty stuff but this fic really seems to be getting to me. Perhaps because it takes place so close to the end of the show, which has a tragic enough ending as it is. Writing Sabrina Morningstar's diary entries in this chapter made me particularly emotional 😭  
> Anyway, this fic seems to be getting longer and longer. I think it's probably going to be 4 chapters now. I've already decided how it's going to go but some things end up taking up a lot more words than I expect! I know it's nowhere near as popular as Queen of the Ashes but I still intend to complete it.


	3. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to come out. It was...difficult to write. For a multitude of reasons. But it's also the longest chapter of anything I've ever written, so there's that?  
> Once again, thank you so much to everyone who has kudosed and commented. It really does mean everything to me. 💙
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for character deaths and depictions of rape/non-con.

As it turned out, Sabrina had been locked in Sabrina Morningstar's tomb for a grand total of ten days. Ten days without food and three without water. She had been within hours of death when Lilith found her, her dehydration having escalated to the point that her heart was giving out.

Lucifer was relatively clueless when it came to treating human ailments despite his immense power. Her life was nonetheless saved by the healers he summoned for her, a group of demons whose speciality was curing mortals in exchange for souls. Under their care, Sabrina's condition was stabilized in no time.

She remained unconscious for most of it. When she had eventually awoken to the unfortunate news that both she and the abomination in her womb were going to be fine, she had wanted to curse her very existence. Except she was physically incapable of cursing anything thanks to the binding spell on her magic that still held.

All she could do was weep, much to the bewilderment of the demoness who had greeted her on awakening.

Sabrina wasn't going to be fine. There was nothing fine about her situation. Her life had been preserved, in essence. But it wasn't truly her life that Lucifer had wanted to save.

It was the life of her child, _his_ child, that he was concerned about preserving. This unborn babe was his last chance of an heir. What would happen to her once he had it? It would be straight back to the tomb with her, and the only thing she could hope for now was that Lucifer might show her the mercy of killing her beforehand.

He had been at her bedside when she'd awoken and remained a constant presence for the next several days while she recovered, silently watching her with that unrecognisable expression she couldn't quite place. Yet he barely spoke a word to her during those few days.

Likewise, she didn't say a word to him. She chose to ignore him entirely, instead focusing all her attention on Salome, who was also a continual and far more welcome presence. The hellhound would be her only friend for the remaining nine- or possibly thirteen- months of her life, and her companionship may have been the one thing keeping her sane.

Even then, Sabrina's spirits dulled slightly whenever she remembered that it wasn't her whom Salome was loyal to. It was Sabrina Morningstar, just as it was with everyone in Hell.

Sabrina Spellman remained alone and unloved in her gilded cage.

Even as a half-witch and part infernal, regaining her health was a slow process. Returning to a normal diet too quickly would result in her throwing up or even lead to Refeeding syndrome, one of the healers had warned her. As a result, she could only eat pitifully small amounts which did little to help her feel better.

It wasn't until nearly a week later, when she finally had the strength to get out of bed for short periods of time, that she and Lucifer had a proper conversation.

If it could even be called that. He came over to her while she sat on a chaise loveseat by the fire, playing with Salome, and sat down opposite her. She ignored him as always, idly continuing to toss a ball for the hellhound and acting as though there was no one else there.

He observed them for a while before clearing his throat.

“Sabrina.”

His voice was quiet, as it always had been whenever he'd spoken to her over the past week. Like he thought she might shatter if he spoke any louder. Much as it pained Sabrina to acknowledge his existence, she forced herself to look at him, knowing he wouldn't leave her alone until she did.

He was gazing at her contemplatively, that mysterious ever-present emotion in his eyes. A contemptuous pity, perhaps? Whatever it was, the sight of it was nauseating. Sabrina didn't need his pity. If that was something he was even capable of feeling.

However, he was rather matter-of-fact as he said, “You will be needing a midwife to guide you through your pregnancy.”

It wasn't a question. Whether Sabrina actually wanted to go through with her pregnancy was, of course, of absolutely no relevance to him. She had no rights here. Before, she had simply been his daughter's body. Now she was the vessel for his future daughter or son, his next precious heir.

She didn't give him so much as a nod in response, only waiting to see if there was anything else he felt the need to burden her with.

There was. And it wasn't what she was expecting.

“Zelda and Hilda Spellman are midwives, are they not? Among the best, from what I've heard...” he said tentatively, the air of thoughtfulness still about him.

Sabrina's heart seemed to do a somersault at the mention of her Aunties. Not even three weeks had passed since she was forced to leave them and the rest behind, yet it could have just as easily been three years.

How many times had she screamed their names while she had been entombed? How many times had she wished she could see them again?

She needed them. They were her real family and always would be, and they were the only ones who could guide her through not only her pregnancy but everything else.

Yet she couldn't. She wouldn't be able to live with them knowing her shame. The idea of them seeing her like this, having suffered so much, having been raped and now being forced to carry Lucifer's child, was more than she could bear to think about.

They wouldn't be able to take it. They would hate themselves for letting her go, and they would hate Lucifer and Caliban for what they did to her. So much that they would undoubtedly try to retaliate, which would only end in their own blood being spilled.

It was just as Sabrina Morningstar had said in her diary. The worlds of the two Sabrina's would poison one another if they weren't kept separate. Now that she had been put in Sabrina Morningstar's body, it was her world that she was going to inhabit. No matter how horrible of a world it was.

Her family and friends on Earth would always be in danger while they were associated with her. Better let them believe she was dead then bring them into her life once more.

“No. Not them,” was all she said to his suggestion, while holding back the tears. _I'm sorry, Aunties. I'm sorry, Ambrose. And Nick...I'm sorry, Nicholas._

Lucifer's brows raised in vague surprise at her answer, possibly because it was the most she had said to him since emerging from her imprisonment. Or maybe it was what she was saying that had thrown him for the loop.

However, as he swiftly replied with, “Very well. I will send for a midwife from one of the other covens,” she thought she might have detected some triumph.

He hadn't even wanted her to say yes. He was a jealous, possessive Lord who didn't want his daughter- not even his False Daughter- having a life that he wasn't the centre of.

But he made the offer, just like he had with the other Sabrina, and she had declined it. And he was arrogant enough to believe it was because she had chosen him instead.

Her new midwife arrived the following night, jittery with what must have been a mix of excitement that her Dark Lord had called upon her for such an important assignment, and crippling nerves at the huge pressure this put her under.

Sabrina didn't know how much she had been told about the circumstances. It came as a shock to her system when the witch curtsied and addressed her as Queen of Hell, having assumed Lucifer would present her as a concubine like Lilith.

However, it made more sense when she thought about it. Technically Sabrina Morningstar was the biological mother of this child, not her. The future heir would be all the more legitimate if it was recognized as the offspring of both Lucifer and Sabrina Morningstar. She didn't suppose the hordes of Hell were too fazed by incest or adultery.

The midwife's awestruck reverence was replaced with a brisk yet maternal demeanor as she went about examining Sabrina, that reminded her painfully of Aunt Zee. It could have been her Aunties who were tending to her now instead of this stranger. It should have been. That was what she had always imagined whenever she'd entertained the idea of one day having children.

Then again, she'd always imagined it would be a child she actually wanted, with someone she loved. Not with a monster who had raped her, tried to murder her and probably still would.

“I must be forthright with you, Dark Lord. This won't be an easy pregnancy,” the midwife said once she had finished her inspection, addressing Lucifer as opposed to her.

Sabrina would have hazarded a guess from her accent that she was from Europe, possibly Germany. The Spellman's ancestors had originally been from Germany too, before they'd emigrated to Britain and then to America...She halted her train of thoughts there, knowing she needed to stop thinking about the family she would never see again.

She might be a Spellman deep down, but for whatever amount of time remained to her in this body, she was a Morningstar.

Lucifer's jaw had clenched at the midwife's words, not liking them.

“Oh?” he questioned, expression darkening somewhat.

“Even if the queen were in perfect health, there would be a high risk of miscarriage this early on in the pregnancy. As it is, her health is extremely fragile. Which also places her pregnancy in jeopardy,” the midwife elaborated, seeming to have picked up on his displeasure yet being coldly candid. So much that Sabrina wondered whether she had indeed heard the full story, or at the very least realized he was responsible for her current pitiful state.

“I'm already aware of that. What are you going to do about it?” Lucifer asked with a faint scowl, obviously not appreciating the subtle accusation but not able to disagree either since it was true.

“I will run daily check-ups on her and the babe to ensure everything is progressing as it should. In the mean time, the queen will need to focus on her own health. She must eat a balanced diet- once it's safe for her to do so- and put on weight, since she's dangerously malnourished at the moment. I'll provide a list of suitable and unsuitable food for her servants to give her. Any alcohol is to be avoided, of course...”

The midwife proceeded to go into more detail on what Sabrina should and shouldn't be allowed to do to protect the “babe” (which would be barely so much as a tiny cluster of cells at this point in time), speaking entirely to Lucifer and the two handmaidens who had been assigned to her.

Sabrina sat in mute misery. It was like she wasn't even there.

Or even more insultingly, it was like she was a creature who couldn't understand them, like a dog. She had been given about as much autonomy as one, though she liked to think she treated Salome with more respect than her own father showed her. It was beyond a joke how Lucifer could have such blatant disregard for her, his flesh and blood daughter, yet would drop everything for a freaking embryo.

As the midwife finally finished her lecture and was packing up her things, she said, “Lastly and perhaps most importantly, the queen will need to be kept free of stress or trauma for the duration of the pregnancy.”

 _That'll be the day,_ Sabrina thought savagely. So far, this pregnancy had been nothing _but_ a trauma. Its very existence had been brought about by trauma.

“How long will that be?” she suddenly asked, her tone robotic, and everyone looked at her.

“Hmm?” The midwife became flustered, seeming unnerved at the empty stare Sabrina was giving her. “It's difficult to say, my lady. Half-mortals are scarce enough as it is and records of their pregnancies are even scarcer. But from what I've gathered, we can expect yours to last somewhere between the mortal period of nine months and the witch period of thirteen. So I would give a rough estimate of eleven months.”

Eleven months. Or ten-and-a-half at this point, but still. Eleven months of being imprisoned and forced to act as an incubator, all the while knowing she would be put to death at the end of it.

She wished once again that Lilith had just let her die. Not only had she abandoned Sabrina to Lucifer's non-existent mercy once more, she had all but disappeared since, leaving Sabrina to deal with everything on her own. Was this her petty revenge on her for “letting” him escape the Academy witches cells?

It was karmic in a way, she supposed. Lilith had needed to impregnate herself with Lucifer's offspring to buy more time. Now her own life had been extended too for the same reason.

The difference was that Lilith had managed to rise above everything, just as she always did. She had gotten her magic back thanks to her selling out Sabrina and the Greendale coven. Her banishment from Hell had been lifted, as her reward for informing Lucifer of Sabrina's pregnancy. The baby that _she_ had been forced to carry was dead while she was somehow still alive and thriving. It seemed nothing could bring Lilith down.

Heaven, she hadn't even had to suffer the gruelling thirteen-month pregnancy most witches did.

“Maybe you should look into whatever spell made Lilith give birth early. Then you can just kill me and be done with it,” Sabrina drily suggested to her father, after the midwife had left with the handmaidens to be shown her new accommodations.

Lucifer looked up from the list that he had been given.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, and Sabrina heaved a sigh.

“Don't try to act dumb with me, False Dad. I know you're putting me back in that tomb as soon as this baby is out of me,” she said wearily, irked by his feigned obliviousness. He might have been the Prince of Lies but she could see right through him.

Lucifer stared at her. “Is that what you think my plan is?”

He seemed genuinely taken aback by her accusation. More acting on his part, Sabrina was sure. The midwife had just told them that she needed to be kept free of stress and trauma, so he couldn't have her going and getting herself worked up. Not when there was the remote possibility it might put the precious embryo in jeopardy.

She turned away from him, unable to look at that handsome yet disgusting face of his any more.

“It's not like you're going to need me after that,” she said, trying to shrug nonchalantly, but her voice caught in her throat and tears welled in her eyes. She furiously blinked them away, not wanting Lucifer to notice them as he came to sit next to her on the couch.

“Of course I need you, Sabrina. You're my daughter-” he said, in what he obviously perceived to be a soothing tone, reaching for her hand.

Sabrina slapped it away.

“I'm not your daughter! You said it yourself!” Her shout was so loud and sudden that Salome let out a whine from where she was sprawled on the rug, upset by her mistress's anger.

Lucifer, on the other hand, barely flinched at Sabrina's outburst. He was oddly emotionless, watching complacently as she leapt up from the couch, unwilling to be next to the monster biology had dictated to be her father.

His lack of reaction maddened her even more.

“You said it as you _raped me_! Well, congratulations. Because of that, you'll soon have a shiny new daughter! Or better yet, you'll get the perfect _son_ you always wanted. You won't need me. Sabrina Morningstar was your daughter. I'm not! You were right all along!” she howled, injecting every hint of sorrow and resentment she felt into her tirade, tears streaming down her face.

After forcing herself to remain silent in his presence, trying to ignore him and the elephant in the room, it almost felt good to be letting it all out. Almost.

Lucifer's green eyes were boring into her even as he continued to say or do nothing in response. There was some kind of emotion in them that didn't appear to be anger or hatred, and Sabrina was perplexed by it.

Where had all his murderous rage gone? The fury with which he had slapped her across the face, sicced Caliban on her, raped her, smashed her head against the floor, and locked her up to die? Was he holding back for the sake of the unborn baby in her womb?

He could control himself and act like a father to _that_ , yet he hadn't been able to for her?

Dizzy and light-headed from her rant, which had exhausted her when she was already weak enough in her recovering condition, she collapsed onto the loveseat again, keeping as much of a space between them as it would allow.

She could sense he was still watching her while she diverted her eyes again, and the silence stretched out for what might have been half of a minute or several.

He was the one who eventually broke it.

“No, Sabrina. I was wrong.”

His voice was so low that it was nearly inaudible, his words so uncharacteristic that Sabrina thought she might have misheard them. Her head did jerk around to look at him then, eyes wide with shock.

His were still trained on her, bright with that emotion she couldn't place.

“You are the same queen I crowned and danced the Mephisto Waltz with, who took the throne to defend Hell from Caliban. The same goddess who burned angels and performed miracles in my name. The same defiant girl who refused to steal so much as a pack of gum on my orders but was later ready to burn down her entire school. The same witch whose hand I guided as she signed her name in my Book, weeks after she ran away from her Dark Baptism. The same child I watched from afar while she grew up with her adoptive witch family. The same babe I held in my arms after she was pulled from her mortal mother's womb.”

A shiver went down Sabrina's spine at his words, her mind relaying every moment with him that she could remember...and the ones that she couldn't, which were somehow still familiar.

That meaningful dream she'd had on the Epiphany, where she saw Edward Spellman handing her infant self over to the monstrous, goat-headed Dark Lord...and all those times back when she was a carefree child, where she thought she sensed a dark presence looming over her.

It would be there after Aunt Hilda tucked her into bed at night, or at a distance whenever she played in the garden, and the young Sabrina hadn't been afraid. She had felt strangely protected by it, like no other monster would attack her while it was around.

How naïve. He had been the monster she should have feared the most. He had watched over her back then. Now he had done _this_ to her.

Tears prickled her eyes again, as the thoughts of her childhood reminded her of the family she'd left behind on Earth. It didn't matter if she and Sabrina Morningstar were the same person. Aunt Zee, Aunt Hilda and Ambrose were her _true_ family, who had raised and loved her unconditionally.

Lucifer was the furthest anyone could be from family. He might have been the other Sabrina's father but he would never be hers.

Yet he now took on the most sickening fatherly tone as he said to her, “You may not have any memory of the bond that Sabrina Morningstar and I shared, but I still see her in you. You _are_ my daughter, Sabrina. I recognize that now. Thinking otherwise was the gravest error I ever made in my long existence. Even though I'm unable to take back what I did to you in my rage and grief, daughter, I will always try to do right by you from now on.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hand in his again. “Forgive me, my child...”

Sabrina looked down at their joined hands blankly, his alien words ringing in her head without her really comprehending them.

Then she looked up at him, at those eyes which were fixed on her so intently. As his words truly registered with her, she finally realized what the unusual emotion she had been seeing in them was.

Remorse.

Remorse. Had Lucifer ever felt remorse before? He was the Devil, the embodiment of all evil, a selfish and sociopathic narcissist. He had never put himself in anyone else's shoes long enough to even understand how they might feel, let alone experience any regret over the countless wrongs he had committed against others. Condescending pity was probably the most he could muster up for any person who wasn't himself.

But did he not view Sabrina Morningstar as part of himself, an extension of his own being? If he had decided she and Sabrina Spellman were one and the same, then that might be why he was capable of feeling something for her now when he had never done before.

Or maybe it was all another act. In any case, his eyes seemed to be begging for her forgiveness as they pierced hers.

It made her want to throw up.

“I will never _, ever_ forgive you,” she whispered, hating him with every fibre of her being.

His face fell slightly at this cutting denial, for a brief second.

Then he smiled a self-depreciating smile. “I can understand that, daughter.” He gave the back of her hand a pat before releasing it.

Following the midwife's visit, Sabrina's health improved to the point that she was finally able to walk about again. Not that she was allowed to walk far by the servants, let alone Lucifer. In a striking contrast to the brutality he had shown her before, he now treated her as though she were a delicate, dainty little doll, to be cherished and coddled.

He made more of an effort to speak to her, connect with her, shockingly patient over her constant rebuffs. He even began giving her stupid little gifts just like he had done with Sabrina Morningstar, of jewelry and clothing and other knick-knacks.

If he was attempting to replicate the bond he had managed to create with her then he could forget it. He had burned that bridge before it was built.

Even with her frosty demeanor, he refused to let her out of his sight. He brought her with him when he made his return to court, his duties calling back to him, and Sabrina was dismayed but not altogether surprised to hear it had been Caliban who had presided over it in his absence. Despite Sabrina Morningstar's death, his late marriage to her had effectively made him the Dark Lord's second-in-command.

He was not there when Sabrina arrived. She was relieved when Jezebel and Athaliah, the two handmaidens who had served the other Sabrina before her and been frequently mentioned in her diary, told her he had gone to Beelzebub's palace in Dis.

As far as Sabrina was concerned, he could stay there. Just so long as she never had to see his revolting clay face again.

The other nobles were easier to deal with but being around them still made her somewhat uncomfortable. According to Lucifer, they all knew she was a different Sabrina to the one they had followed for the past several months.

They nonetheless addressed her as queen, bowing before her as well as Lucifer whenever they made their entrances, with all the outward reverence one would expect, and some of them seemed to view her as interchangeable with Sabrina Morningstar; like she was some kind of backup copy that Lucifer had needed to put into use.

Others, not so much. She could see their disdain and mistrust even as they bowed to her. In their eyes, she was a shoddy replacement for their real queen.

She wasn't sure which attitude made her feel worse.

Not that it mattered much what Hell's subjects thought of her, since she didn't need to deal with them. Lucifer had forbidden her from participating in any of the actual ruling despite hauling her to court every day, having deemed it too potentially “stressful,” for her condition, and she was regulated to the sidelines.

She nevertheless attempted to glean what she could from her role as a meek observer. Instead of gossiping or playing games with her handmaidens, who were required to be at her constant beck and call, she paid rapt attention to the court proceedings.

This was sometimes more difficult than one would expect. Even in Hell, politics could get extremely boring. She had to pinch her skin to stop herself falling asleep during some of the rambling speeches the aristocracy of Hell gave. One lesser lord succeeded in boring Lucifer so much that he lost his patience entirely, causing the unfortunate demon lord to go up in flames.

His daughter might have actually been a better listener than him.

Pitfalls aside, Sabrina found that she quite enjoyed the royal court, which was surprising...or maybe it wasn't. Hadn't Sabrina Morningstar come to love being Queen of Hell? Whenever she watched Lucifer on his throne and imagined herself in his position, she could believe it.

Her mortal life had been pleasant but boring. She loved her family and friends on Earth, yet she had been unfulfilled there. Hell might have been where she truly belonged all along, an opportunity that she had thrown away when she split herself in two. But it was far too late to dwell on that now.

It was during her fourth week at court that things really went south.

She was in her usual place, looking down at the throne room from her cosy cushioned seat on the balcony while Jezebel and Athaliah giggled about something from next to her. Sabrina tried to block them out, wanting to focus on what the Hordes of Hell were saying.

Lucifer was in the process of hearing a dispute regarding the soul of a recently executed serial killer. The mortal had raped, tortured and murdered fourteen girls and women during his murder spree, and the demons were unable to reach an agreement on where he belonged.

Murderers were usually condemned to the Seventh Circle where they would spend the rest of eternity submerged in its boiling river of blood as retribution for the violence they committed on Earth. However, many of the nobles were arguing that the sexual element to his crimes meant his true sin was lust, making him more suitable for the comparatively mild Second Circle.

Sabrina had come to learn that little in the way of actual justice was served in Hell. There was a bizarre bureaucracy to the way in which mortal souls were processed, their sentencing usually having less to do with their actual crimes (if they had even committed any) and more to do with the “sin” behind them.

Even so, the thought of a sadistic rapist being placed on the same level as those who had merely slept around during their lifetime was just too ludicrous for her to stand by and take. When it was starting to seem Lucifer would rule in favor of the mortal being sent to the Second Circle, she knew she had to add her own two cent.

She abruptly stood up. “He belongs in the Seventh Circle!”

Every head in the room turned to her, none of them having expected her input. Sabrina Morningstar had been their Queen, wearing the Infernal Crown and passing judgements, the centre of the spotlight.

But in the few days she'd been there, Sabrina _Spellman_ had been nothing more than a silent shadow lurking at the back of the hall. Hearing her speak now, with such force and conviction no less, was a shock to them.

“With all due respect, your Malevolence...His crimes were motivated by lust-” began one of the Lords, the first who dared to address her.

Sabrina cut him off, calmer now but no less brusque. “Rape is a violent act, fuelled by hatred and entitlement. His actions had nothing to do with lust. Sending this murderer to the Second Circle would be a mockery of our system. He belongs in the Seventh Circle with all the other violent criminals.”

She sat herself down again after this declaration, unsure it would have any bearing but satisfied to have gotten it out.

The room buzzed, the voices of those who had advocated for the Seventh Circle becoming louder, empowered by the queen's support, while most of the demons who had argued against it now lapsed into sullen silence.

Lucifer raised a hand for quiet.

“You have heard it from my wise daughter, your Queen.” He shot her a brief look of admonishment, although the corners of his mouth twitched as though he were trying not to smile, “For the sin of violence against his fellow humans, Kirk Spencer will be sentenced to live out the rest of eternity in the Seventh Circle, waist deep in the Phlegethon river.”

There Lucifer sat on his kingly throne, doling out punishments to mortals for their sins and crimes, all of which he was guilty of himself. The irony of this seemed to be lost on him, and the rest of the Infernal horde who responded to his verdict with applause, the few angry hisses from those who still disagreed completely drowned out.

Meanwhile the mortal was hauled away in chains, the demons jeering at him as he went. Sabrina glared at his retreating form, so weak and pathetic, in a contrast to the terrifying figure he must have posed to his victims.

He would know what it was like to suffer now. Just as those girls had. Just as _she_ had. It was a pity she wasn't going to be the one to dunk him in the river of blood herself.

The fury that had been constantly burning within her seemed to reach a fervent heat. There was also another, more positive feeling; one that she had nearly forgotten how to feel.

Triumph.

Lucifer had been the one to officially declare the sentencing, yet it had been her ruling. She had been the one who turned the tide, her word having made all the difference. _That_ was the power of a queen. Even when she was just an imposter queen.

Sabrina resolved then and there that she would be speaking up more often. Whether Lucifer liked it or not. It wasn't as though he could punish her; not when he thought there was any chance doing so could damage the baby. He would either have to put up with her outspokenness or rethink his decision to bring her to court.

Either way, she would be his dainty little doll no longer! She _would_ have a voice.

She felt emboldened, powerful even, and it was exhilarating after being defenceless for so long. A small smile surfaced on her lips, the first she had cracked since Lucifer kidnapped her from her ill-fated birthday party.

Yet her moment of respite was short-lived. The smile disappeared from her face when the door to the throne room opened, admitting an all-too-familiar demon prince she had never wanted to lay eyes on again.

Her blood could have turned to ice in her veins as she watched Caliban stride up to the throne with all of his usual swagger.

“Lord Lucifer,” he acknowledged, with a bow of his head and one of his insufferable smirks. He then turned his attention to her, smile widening and becoming more malicious as he gave her a sarcastic bow too. “Lady Morningstar.”

Sabrina once found the sound of his voice and the sight of his smug face vaguely annoying. Now it brought her an intense, visceral terror unlike anything else, as the memory of what he had done to her resurfaced and she was forced to replay everything she had been trying to erase from her mind.

She remembered how helpless she had been, unable to defend herself or even move while he assaulted her. She remembered his cruel mockery, the degrading words that he had said to her, and about Sabrina Morningstar. She remembered how much his attack had _hurt_ , among the worst pain she had felt in her life.

The memory was carved into her brain, and it cut all the more deeply now that he was here to serve as the visual reminder.

And she was sure Caliban knew it. He didn't move his eyes off her even as he took his place at Lucifer's right-hand, still wearing what might have looked like an innocent smile to anyone else, but what she knew to be a leer. There was both hatred and hunger behind it. If he were given the opportunity, he would do it all again.

She tried to remain composed under his scrutiny, wishing she had the courage to coldly return his stare instead of looking down at her clasped hands and trying to block it out.

His appearance had caused a panic to arise in her and it was all she could do to even keep herself together. Her palms were sweating, her head was pounding and her chest had tensed up, to the point that she felt like she couldn't breathe in her anxiety.

It had been hard enough acclimatizing to being in Lucifer's continual presence after everything he'd done to her, and she had only managed to cope by letting her sheer contempt for him override her fear.

But now both of her tormentors were here and she couldn't take it. She couldn't be in this room with them. She wasn't safe! She needed to get out, she needed to-

Jezebel suddenly broke off from her conversation with her colleague. “Lady Morningstar, is everything alright?” she inquired, looking at Sabrina with some concern. “Your heart rate has shot right up.”

Sabrina had forgotten how acute demon's senses were.

“I-” she tried to say, the one word seeming to rob her of air. With much effort, she drew in a shaky breath and tried to talk again, her voice barely a weak sob. “I...”

It was no use. She couldn't speak and she couldn't breathe. Her brain couldn't even think straight. All she knew was that she was suffocating in her own panic.

“I think she's hysterical,” Athaliah whispered, casting a nervous glance down at the packed throne room. Some of the nobles had noticed the small commotion occurring on the balcony and were now watching them instead of the Dark Lord, who was currently preoccupied with resolving another dispute over land ownership.

Seeing this, Jezebel took hold of Sabrina's arm. “Come on, my lady,” she said softly, guiding her to her feet with Athaliah's help.

Sabrina could hardly even walk due to the dizzying sensation in her head, her handmaidens supporting her on either side as they led her into one of the small antechambers and away from the aristocracy's prying eyes.

There, they sat her down on a recliner, Jezebel attempting to soothe her with words of comfort while Athaliah prepared a tea to help treat her “hysteria”.

Now that Sabrina was out of Caliban's direct vicinity, the terror he had caused alleviating slightly, her reeling mind cleared enough for her to regain some rationality. She recognized that she wasn't dying, nor was she “hysterical,” as Athaliah put it. She was simply having a panic attack, which her handmaidens probably never needed to deal with while serving their old mistress.

Taking deep breaths, she tried to quell her anxiety and calm her racing heart, with little success. Whenever her self-administered breathing exercises and sips of the camomile that Athaliah gave her seemed to be returning it to a slower pace, the thought of going back into the throne room and having to see Caliban would send it into a sporadic rhythm once more.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't face her rapists. Lucifer and Caliban had hurt her before and they would hurt her again when her baby was born. They would be free to do whatever they wanted once it was out.

Terrified at this prospect, she began sobbing. The handmaidens tried to console her once again, holding her up in their arms; Athaliah stroking her head while Jezebel began to sing to her, a lullaby-like song in a language Sabrina didn't recognize. It brought her a sense of tranquillity and she wondered if it was some kind of calming spell.

It was bizarre to experience such maternal behaviour from two demonesses, though she did know they had been close with Sabrina Morningstar. Perhaps they had forgotten she was actually a stranger to them.

She snuggled into their embrace, shutting her eyes and pretending it was her Aunties who were holding her. Thinking of them made her heart weep, knowing she would never see them again, yet it somehow managed to soothe her too. Her heart slowed to a steadier pace and her breathing eased, her sobs dying down.

Just when she thought she might be starting to feel a bit better, Lucifer materialized next to them in a whirl of flames. His face was stony as he confronted the two servants.

“What is going on? Why have you removed my daughter without my permission?”

Sabrina instinctively cowered at his ire, the horrific memory of what he did when he had been in a rage before replaying in her head. Meanwhile Athaliah opened her mouth wordlessly, looking like she was on the verge of a panic attack herself.

Jezebel alone remained serene. “The queen had an attack of hysterics, Dark Lord. We brought her in here so she could calm down,” she said, meeting his glare with impressive nonchalance.

Her explanation mercifully seemed to placate Lucifer. His fiery eyes softened as they fell upon Sabrina, taking in her tear-stained face and weak, trembling form.

After dismissing the two handmaidens- who gave her one last comforting pat on each shoulder before leaving the room- he approached his daughter, standing over her as she tried to stop herself falling to pieces again.

“Sabrina. What is all this about?” His tone was not unkind, though there was a perplexed frown lining his forehead. Seeing it caused Sabrina's panic to fade, replaced by indignity that he could even ask such a thing.

Wiping away her tears with her hands, she gave him a look of reproach. “Caliban! That's what this is about!”

His frown only deepened. “What of him?”

This absurd question made Sabrina just about lose it.

“How could you? How could you let him walk in here and expect me to be okay with it after everything he did to me? He raped me! _He sodomized me!_ ” she shrieked, so loudly that the whole throne room could probably hear her. Well, that was Lucifer's problem, not hers.

“Sabrina, calm down-” he began, with a patronizing air that served to piss Sabrina off even more.

She screamed across him. “No! I won't calm down! Why should I? You didn't even show me the consideration of warning me he was going to turn up today!”

“I didn't expect him today. He wasn't due to return from Dis until the end of the week,” Lucifer said, still feigning sympathy though there was now a hint of exasperation creeping in. “However...he _is_ your husband by Infernal Law, part of House Morningstar. As such, he is expected to stand at my side.”

“I don't care! I don't want to see him ever again!” Sabrina declared, her voice becoming shriller. Caliban would _never_ be her husband! It made her die inside knowing he had managed to seduce Sabrina Morningstar and fool her into thinking he was a good man, taking advantage of her loneliness.

A few more tears escaped her at the thought of her dead counterpart, but she kept her voice steady as she affirmed, “Either he goes or I do. I refuse to be in the same room as him. Don't make me do it, Father, please. I can't take it, I can't deal with it...”

Seized by a sneaky streak of inspiration, she placed a hand on her stomach and in the most plaintive strain she could muster, added, “It's just too much stress for me to bear...”

Rubbing her pregnant belly (while trying not to puke), she peered up at him through her tears and saw that her plea had predictably moved him. Whether he had seen the manipulation behind her gesture or not, she didn't know.

In any case, he was all simpering tenderness as he stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, speaking soft words of assurance. “Then you won't have to, daughter. I will tell Caliban he's no longer welcome at court.”

Sabrina hid her smugness. Averting her eyes, she continued to cradle her stomach, which was still flat. Her pregnancy might have been what had trapped her but it was also the one card she had, and she would sure as Heaven play it.

For what little it was worth.

As the abomination in her womb continued to grow over the following months, her physical health returned to her. She regained all of the weight she had lost and some, thanks to the food Lucifer and her handmaidens were constantly shoving down her throat, and her belly gradually began to swell. The midwife had been pleased to inform her Dark Lord that Sabrina's pregnancy was progressing as smoothly as it possibly could.

On the outside, she was the very picture of a glowing expectant mother.

On the inside, she was screaming for it to all end.

It was as though everyone around her was trying to smother her. She had no privacy, never allowed to be on her own for so much as a minute.

Lucifer was always around and though he kept his physical distance for the most part, he never seemed to take his eyes off her. They were always watching her, still seeming to beg for the forgiveness she would not be giving; the last thing she saw before she fell asleep and the first thing she saw whenever she woke up.

There were times where she would stir from her slumber in the middle of the night and sense him beside her on the bed. Her eyes would remain shut, as she tried to keep her breathing steady and remain calm, so her heart rate wouldn't jump up and alert him that she was awake.

He never did anything to her on those occasions, not even touching her. But she could never erase the memory of what he had done from her mind, and the fear that he would do it again was always there.

During the rare moment Lucifer was forced to tear himself away from her, Jezebel and Athaliah would be there, fussing over her and following her wherever she went, even to the bathroom. Like two extremely loud, annoying shadows who talked far too much. Though they were kind enough, Sabrina knew better than to speak with them freely. She wasn't their friend and she wasn't their master either. Lucifer was. She couldn't trust anyone who was aligned with him.

There were no friends or allies to be found here.

What Sabrina hated most of all was the loss of her power. Though Lucifer was keen to indulge her on every other whim that she didn't have, he had refused to lift the binding on her magic, claiming it was too dangerous to do so while she was pregnant. Once the baby was born, he promised her. Then she would have her magic back.

It was almost funny. Even now, he was still sticking to the ruse that she had a future ahead of her once she had given birth.

She knew very well why he was restricting her freedom. He feared that the second she was left alone, she would seize the nearest sharp item she could find and drive it into her stomach, or throw herself out the window onto the parapet below.

Those fears weren't unfounded. There were occasions where she would find herself gazing at her reflection in the mirror, at her plump rosy-cheeked face and the grotesque baby bump now showing beneath her dress, and she would bitterly regret that she hadn't summoned up the courage to open her wrists back when she had been in the tomb.

Or she would rummage through the cupboards whenever Lucifer wasn't there, hoping to find pills or potions she could overdose on. Her handmaidens would stop her, sitting her back down and offering to get whatever she required. Not that they needed to worry. She was pretty sure Sabrina Morningstar's room had already been emptied of anything she could use to hurt herself and the baby.

The precious baby. The precious fucking baby. She had mercifully passed the morning sickness stage yet she wanted to vomit all over again whenever she heard about it, which was all the time. From Lucifer, from the handmaidens, from the midwife, from all the visiting demon nobles Lucifer introduced her to.

They would congratulate _him_ , as though he had actually done anything- other than raping her.

 _She_ was the one whose body it was occupying and leeching off of, the one who would have to push it out. And she was expected to see it as a blessing. The midwife had taken a scan of the fetus, with the same kind of paper Ambrose used to detect the Weird entity- another parasite.

While Sabrina had refused to look at the image, Athaliah and Jezebel had cooed over it. Because apparently not even demonesses were immune to baby fever.

The midwife had also advised Sabrina on ways in which she could bond with the “baby” which should be starting to recognize its mother's voice soon, suggesting that she try talking or singing to it so it could form a connection with her.

Sabrina had no interest in bonding with it. Whatever lies Lucifer fed her, there was no way she was going to be kept around for long once it was born. He would be the one raising it. She doubted he would even tell it the truth of its conception.

Sabrina Morningstar would be remembered as the mother. Sabrina Spellman would be erased from all memory.

And she was almost glad of that. Because she didn't want to be the mother of this abomination. She felt not an ounce of love or maternal instinct towards the creature in her womb. On the contrary, she thought she might loathe it nearly as much as she loathed its father.

Just like him, it had forced its way into her body against her will. She was reminded of its conception every time she had to look down at that ugly bump in her once-flat stomach. And each time it kicked at her...which was very often. It had started moving around the twentieth week, which according to the midwife was quite early for a first pregnancy, and had hardly let up since.

How blessed she was.

The kicking had been so violent one night that it woke her up, from a dream that had been unusually pleasant. No detailed flashbacks of Lucifer and Caliban's assault on her, or nightmares of them attacking her yet again before throwing her back in the tomb to die.

Not even any sad visions of her Aunties and Ambrose sobbing over an empty casket, thinking she was dead, or any of the other common dreams that caused her to awake with tears staining her cheeks.

It had just been her, walking through the sunlit autumn woods with Salome at her heel. Neither of her rapists had been there, to torture and torment her as they always did. Nor had the Aunties, Nick or Sabrina Morningstar, to remind her of everyone she had lost. She had been at _peace_.

Peace was a luxury Sabrina seldom got these days, awake or asleep. She had been enjoying this rare moment until she found herself being yanked from it, by the increasingly familiar and uncomfortable sensation of the abomination moving inside her.

She winced as she came to, keeping her eyes closed and trying to will herself back to sleep in the hopes of returning to the place she had just left. But the thing was persistent, continuously kicking as though heavenbent on getting her attention. It was impossible for her to ignore.

All the tranquillity Sabrina had felt during her dream dissipated. Her serenity was replaced by cold rage and a deep, dark hatred.

Cracking her eyes open, she peered around to see her two handmaidens were playing with Salome on the far side of the room, out of direct earshot. And for once, Lucifer _wasn't_ at her side. He was away on Earth, visiting some poor witch who was due to marry the next day. His absence was probably why Sabrina had been able to dream peacefully.

Not that it made much difference when the spawn he had planted in her womb was here to terrorize her instead.

Each movement it made felt like butterflies in her stomach, only far more intense. More like _bats_ in her stomach. It was one of the worst feelings in the world.

Not because it hurt (though it did ache) but because it reminded Sabrina of the obvious truth she had been trying to ignore for the last few months in an effort to retain her sanity.

This thing was _alive_.

It was a parasite growing inside of her, like the Weird, yet it was no aquatic alien. It was her own flesh and blood and she was supposed to love it.

Sabrina glowered down at the swollen bump that jutted hideously from her otherwise small body. When she brought her hand to rest on top of it, the kicking finally ceased, the fetus seeming to have responded to her touch. The touch of its mother.

But Sabrina had no motherly words of love to give it. Only words of disdain, which she hissed fiercely under her breath.

“ _I hate you_. You are a monster and an abomination. Just like Father. I don't want you. I never wanted you. This is _my_ body, not yours, and you don't deserve to live in it. You don't even deserve to be brought into this world. I wish to Hecate that you would just _die_.”

She felt no more movement from it for the rest of the night.

Hecate, a protectress of women and children, would have been displeased to hear her name invoked in such a way. But she had failed to protect Sabrina, who was both a woman and a child. As such, Sabrina no longer cared about honoring her.

There were times where she thought it would be easier if she just stopped caring altogether. About Caliban and Lucifer, about the fact that she was carrying the latter's spawn, or that she had been dragged away from her life with everyone she ever loved and would never hear from them again.

She was a dead woman walking, after all. The dead didn't care.

But Sabrina did still care. She cared enough to be on edge whenever Lucifer was near to her or whenever Caliban's name came up in conversation. She cared enough that whenever she felt the fetus kick at her belly or looked down at her bump, she wanted to rip the accursed thing out of her.

And she still cared about those that she had left behind on Earth. She still _missed_ them.

She missed her Aunties whenever the midwife came to check up on her, saddened that it wasn't them but knowing she had made her decision to keep them safe.

She missed Ambrose whenever she tried to occupy her restless mind by reading a book, remembering how he had always been the one she turned to for advice, if only she'd had the sense to heed it.

She missed the Fright Club, her real friends, whenever she had to listen to her handmaidens chatting with each other and knew she could never truly join in.

She missed Salem whenever she played with Salome, who was a wonderful companion but could never take the place of her loyal cat familiar.

And she missed Nick, the true love of her life. Her Nicholas, who had once sacrificed himself to keep Lucifer trapped in Hell. A brave, selfless sacrifice that had turned out to be in vain. If Sabrina had ever chosen to have a child then it would have been with him. Not with the monster who had tortured them both.

If only she hadn't cared. If only she could be the same cold, unfeeling ice queen towards them that she was to the unborn creature in her womb. Then it wouldn't have come as such a huge blow to her a few weeks later, when she received some of the worst news she ever could have gotten.

Athaliah and Jezebel were readying her for bed after her evening bath, while Lucifer waited in the bedroom as usual (Sabrina supposed she should be glad he didn't insist on accompanying her here too). They applied a soothing lotion to her body before wrapping her up in a soft night robe, needing to tie the sash under her bust as opposed to around her waist due to her ballooning stomach.

“You are getting so big now, my lady. Only two months left to go!” Athaliah gushed, while Sabrina resolutely refused to look at the bump. The creature had been particularly active today, though it seemed to have finally let up. Maybe she would even be able to get some sleep.

To think, if she was only mortal then it would already be out of her.

“We never got to see Lilith get that big,” Jezebel said, with a sly smirk.

“But hasn't she been pregnant before?” Sabrina's inquiry earned her a couple of bemused looks from the handmaidens. Feeling rather stupid, she tried to justify her deduction. “Why else would she be called the Mother of Demons?”

“That's just a title. She isn't a mother as such, more a creator,” Jezebel said dismissively, while drying Sabrina's hair with a wind spell.

“It was her who created us. She named us after two of her favorite queens from the False God's scripture.” Sabrina nodded in response to their explanation. Though, Athaliah's add-on raised another question.

“I can never figure out why Biblical names are so popular among witches.” Granted, Jezebel and Athaliah weren't highly regarded by the False God or His followers. But Nicholas and Agatha were the names of canonized saints and Luke had been one of the Nazarene's disciples. It seemed contradictory for a cult of literal Satan-worshippers to give their children the names of such people.

Athaliah glanced up from the pot of face cream she had just opened, looking puzzled. “But didn't you- I mean, didn't the other Lady Morningstar- name your hellhound Salome? She was a Biblical character too.”

Sabrina kept her eyes and mouth shut while the handmaiden massaged a generous amount of the cream onto her face. She wouldn't be surprised if the radiant glow she'd gained had as much to do with the vigorous skin care routine her handmaidens had put her on as it did with her pregnancy.

Once her face had been fully moisturized, she proceeded to explain, recalling what Sabrina Morningstar had written in her diary.

“Actually, she named her after our familiar, Salem. Since the names are similar.” She cracked a rare smile, remembering something Nick had told her after they both failed to become Top Boy. “I can't say I'm a huge fan of the original Salome. She once offered a model of my severed head to my boyfriend Nick-”

Athaliah was in the process of putting the jar back on the shelf when Sabrina mentioned Nick. She fumbled it upon hearing his name, the jar slipping out of her slim fingers and nearly falling to the floor. Catching it on time, she put it in its rightful place.

Yet the expression on her face when she turned to look at Sabrina was one of horrified recognition and her voice was a frightened squeak.

“Nicholas Scratch?”

Sabrina stared at her, unnerved that the handmaiden even knew who Nick was. “Yes...why?”

Athaliah's face became even more stricken. It also bore traces of guilt, the unmistakable look of someone who thought they had said too much. Her eyes flickered to her sister, looking for help.

“Nothing, my lady. I think my sister was startled since your...predecessor only ever spoke of him with distaste,” Jezebel said, far too smoothly for Sabrina to believe her. As she looked between them- at Athaliah's scared, guilty face and Jezebel's mask-like one- she felt a new dread building inside her.

It certainly wasn't nothing. Hearing that her mistress had gotten back with a disliked ex might have been shocking news, but nowhere near shocking enough to merit the reaction Athaliah had given. There was something else going on, something worse. Whatever it was, neither of them wanted Sabrina to hear it.

“No...You're hiding something from me,” she said slowly. Turning to Athaliah, who seemed the most likely to crack, she pressed the matter. “What is it? Do you know Nick?”

The demoness shook her head, eyes wide and anxious. It only served as further confirmation to Sabrina that she was hiding something. But what could be so terrible that they were refusing to even tell her?

Jezebel pushed her sister aside, facing Sabrina defensively. “My lady, we have never met him-”

“But you know of him! And you know something that I don't!”

“I swear we don't-”

“ _I am your queen!_ Don't you _dare_ lie to me!” Sabrina shouted, the two handmaidens backing away at her fury.

Perhaps they had forgotten that she was unable to use magic and anticipated she might snap both of their necks, as Lucifer had the habit of doing to any demon who displeased them. If it meant they might give her answers, then Sabrina wouldn't remind them otherwise.

Answers were what she got. But it was an answer she would have been happier never getting. Jezebel finally relented, falling at Sabrina's feet and gripping her robe while beseeching her.

“My lady...we are so very sorry. As we said, we didn't know Nicholas Scratch. But we have seen him.” Her composed demeanor had fallen apart. She was shaking with an emotion that Sabrina knew could only be terror. Whatever it was she was about to tell Sabrina, she was obviously dreading the reaction it would garner from her...or possibly retaliation from someone else for telling her.

“We saw him the day after the late queen's burial. The Dark Lord and Prince Caliban had him dragged before the Hordes. They denounced him guilty of defiling the Queen of Hell. And then...” She stopped there, her voice catching in her throat. She didn't want to continue.

An ice-cold hand closed around Sabrina's heart at her words. Or at least that was what it felt like.

“And then?” she prompted, barely able to speak. She already knew. She knew what was coming next, knew what Jezebel was going to tell her. And as much as she didn't want to hear it, she also knew she had to.

But that didn't make it any easier when her fear was confirmed. Some of the intimidated fear left Jezebel's dark eyes, replaced with genuine sympathy as she gazed up at her mistress.

“They put him to death, my lady,” she said, as softly as one could. She averted her eyes then, presumably not wanting to see the grief that must have shown on Sabrina's face as what remained of her world seemed to fall apart.

Nick was dead. Her Nick, her beloved Nicholas, was gone forever.

She had known there wasn't a chance of her seeing him again. He had been Sabrina _Spellman's_ lover, not Sabrina Morningstar's, and she had already made her decision to cut herself off from her Earthly life for good. Though it broke her heart whenever she thought about it, she had known it was what was best for both of them. Nick had sacrificed himself for her before, so she had sacrificed herself for him.

She gave herself up to the Dark Lord so that the rest of the coven wouldn't be killed along with her.

Nick would have been devastated over her loss, she was sure, but she had been equally sure he would move on eventually. With Prudence or maybe Agatha, or another girl. He would never have to look at her and be reminded of Lucifer again. He would never have to have anything to do with Lucifer at all. Without her, he could have lived a long and happy life.

But he hadn't. He was dead, because of her.

And because of Lucifer. Because every other evil thing he'd done hadn't been enough for him. Because he hadn't taken everything else from her already. He had also had to kill the man she loved, for the most ridiculous and petty of reasons.

A loud roaring in her ears made it impossible for Sabrina to hear what her handmaidens were saying to her. Words of consolation, probably. They could save their breath. There was no consoling her now. There was no coming back from this blow. After everything else she had gone through, this pain was too much for her to take. It had all been for nothing. Everything she had suffered, for nothing.

Sabrina could feel a warm wetness on her cheeks. At first, she thought it was tears. Yet her eyes were still dry.

Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror above the sink- at the ethereally white girl with the broken look in her eyes- she saw rivulets of blood running down her face, from the nails that she had unknowingly been scraping against her skin.

“Lady Morningstar, please! You're hurting yourself!” The handmaidens pleaded with her; trying to push her hands down, trying to soothe her.

Sabrina turned away from them. She didn't want their empty words of comfort, nor the concern that they were contractually obligated to show her.

All she wanted was for it to end. All the pain, all the misery, all the fear she was having to live in. She didn't want to live at all when life was like this. If she had only died in that tomb then she would be free of it now.

As she slid to the bathroom floor with her fingers still digging into her face, an inhumane wail tore forth from her lips. It was a guttural noise that she never would have believed herself capable of making until now.

There was only one other sound she could compare it to- the hair-raising cry of the dread banshee who had appeared outside the Mortuary, while Aunt Zee lay dying after being shot by a deranged Ms. Wardwell.

It was said that banshees were the lost souls of women whose husbands had died in battle. Unable to move on in their grief, they spent their afterlives acting as harbingers of death, their cries serving as a warning to families who were about to lose a loved one. The banshee's cry had been the last thing that the Spellmans had wanted to hear when Zelda was on the brink of death.

Sabrina might not have been a banshee herself, yet the wails coming out of her mouth were spine-chilling enough that anyone could have mistaken her for one. She screamed and screamed while continuing to claw at her face, the handmaidens desperately trying to calm her with no success.

The bathroom door was thrown open, Lucifer having heard the racket and come to investigate.

When Sabrina saw him standing in the doorway, nonplussed at the sight of his half-mad daughter, the cold sorrow drowning her suddenly boiled over in fury.

“You!” Hauling her body off the floor, her rage fuelling her like nothing else, she flung herself at him. Her small fists did no damage as they began pummelling his chest, yet he seemed unnerved at the frenzy she was in. Catching hold of her, he tried to still her.

“Sabrina, what-” he tried to say, at a loss over her crazed behaviour.

Spittle flew from her mouth as she screamed in his face. “You killed him! You killed Nick! How could you? _How could you?_ ”

Understanding dawned on Lucifer's face at the mention of Nicholas Scratch.

It then darkened in anger that wasn't directed at her. Keeping her at arms length while she continued to try and attack him, he rounded on the two handmaidens.

“You told her? _Why_ in my name would you tell her about the warlock's execution?” he thundered, while the poor demonesses cowered once more, now subject to his ire instead of his daughter's.

“She demanded to know the truth, Dark Lord. We couldn't refuse her.” Jezebel was on the verge of tears as she tried to explain herself.

Once upon a time, Sabrina might have felt bad about putting her and Athaliah in such a difficult position. But right now, the only things she could feel were grief for Nick...and a white-hot hatred towards Lucifer.

Who was, as always, determined to blame anyone other than himself for the situation at hand. “I specifically forbade you from saying anything to her about it. And with good reason. Just look at the state you've gotten her in!”

The state they had gotten her in? No, the state _he_ had gotten her in. He had been the one who murdered Nick in cold blood. While Sabrina had suffered in her tomb, the belief that her loved ones were safe serving as her one comfort, he had dragged the boy that she loved down to Hell and executed him before the masses, probably in some gruesome fashion.

She didn't even want to think about what else Lucifer might have done to him beforehand. At the very least, he would have been unable to resist tormenting Nick with the knowledge of what he and Caliban had done to his girlfriend.

And at the most...she couldn't bear to contemplate it. Nick had been repeatedly tortured by him while acting as the Acheron, and he had nearly been driven over the edge by his experience.

Even many months later, after he had gotten back together with Sabrina and seemed to have moved on, he had confided in her that he still had frequent nightmares about everything Lucifer had subjected him to.

As Sabrina thought of how horrific Nick's final moments must have been, another wail left her.

The anger departed from Lucifer's features, replaced by worry as he looked to her. Drawing her into his arms, he spoke to her gently. “There now, Sabrina...”

She continued to shriek while beating her hands against his back but he ignored her. Altercation with the handmaidens forgotten, he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, with no effort despite her increased weight.

“How long did you think you could hide it from me? Were you ever going to tell me? Tell me!” she demanded of him, once he had deposited her on her favorite seat by the fireplace.

Lucifer didn't tell her anything. He only shushed her, keeping his hands firmly on her shoulders to stop her from leaping up again.

“Sabrina, think of the baby. You need to-”

 _Calm down?_ Sabrina was sick of being told to calm down, sick of being expected to sit down and shut up. Sick of being expected to care about a “baby” that she didn't even want.

“I don't need to do anything! I owe you nothing, False Father!” She didn't shriek now, though her voice was still loud and furious as she proceeded to pour out her anger.

“You said you would spare everyone! That was my one condition for handing my body over to you and Caliban to be buried. And even after everything else you did to me, you still went back on it. You killed my boyfriend! And for what? Because he “defiled” Sabrina? You know that she loved him too, right? She would hate you if she saw all the things you've done since her death. Just as much as I hate you and this disgusting creature you're forcing me to carry! I-”

Her rant came to an abrupt stop when she felt a sudden pain in her abdomen. It was a sick, squeezing sensation, similar to the cramps she got during her period, only sharper and far more intense. Wincing, she brought her hand to her belly, rubbing circles in an effort to ease the pain.

“I-” she tried to go on, frustrated at being cut short while in the process of unburdening herself.

But if Lucifer had ever been listening to begin with then he certainly wasn't listening now. Taking in her pained expression, his gaze moved downwards to settle on her stomach and the hand with which she was massaging it.

“Sabrina?” He sounded concerned. As always, she was certain that his concern was less about her and more about the _baby_.

“Is it contractions?” The handmaidens had emerged from the bathroom, both of them nervously eyeing Sabrina, who was still clutching at her stomach. As well as the immense throbbing, she had also become aware of a wet substance trickling out from between her legs.

Turning away from Lucifer, she pulled aside her bathrobe, half-expecting to see her thighs were stained with blood. The pain in her stomach was bad enough. Yet the fluid running down her leg was clear and pale in color.

Her waters had broken.

Both of her handmaidens blanched as they came to the same realization.

“I'll get the midwife!” Athaliah vanished on the spot, probably glad to get a respite from the room's toxic atmosphere. A very brief respite, as she re-materialized less than ten seconds later with the midwife in tow. In a contrast to the handmaidens' flummoxed state, the witch was remarkably calm as she approached Sabrina and examined her.

“It is time. The baby is well on its way,” she confirmed. Straightening up, she issued brisk orders to the handmaidens. “Move her over to the bed. And bring boiling water.”

Lucifer, who had been surprisingly quiet while all this was going down, chose now to pitch in. “Already? You said eleven months. It's only been nine. This is far too early!” He was extremely agitated as he interrogated the midwife, who remained unruffled.

“That was only an estimate. The queen _is_ half-mortal. In any case, the baby should be perfectly viable by this stage.” Seeing her words had placated him somewhat, she continued, “Now...with all due respect, Dark Lord, I must request that you leave us. The birthing room is a women's space, no place for a man. Not even you.”

Being told where to go, by a lowly witch no less, would have ordinarily caused Lucifer to explode in anger. But these circumstances were anything but ordinary and even he seemed able to recognize that.

With one last look at his daughter, who had settled onto the bed and was whimpering from the excruciating contractions wracking her body, he made his departure.

Sabrina was grateful she wasn't going to have him hovering around her while she gave birth. Even so, it was going to be the fight of her life. She had been fatally shot with a crossbow wielded by a psychopathic angel, but that had been child's play compared to this. She was starting to see why childbirth was sometimes described as being like a war.

It came as a relief when the contractions stopped, leaving her panting and sweaty. Too soon, they started up again. More agonized whimpers left her mouth as the pain rippled through her, unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Just as the ancient witch Medea once declared she would rather stand in battle three times than give birth to one child, Sabrina reached the conclusion that _she_ would happily take being shot with a hundred arrows rather than endure one more contraction.

She had to endure many more of them over the next few hours. The midwife gave her a numbing tonic that helped for a while but not for long enough, as the contractions became increasingly intense and drawn-out. Less time passed between each one until it got to the point that they were continuous.

Weak with pain, Sabrina no longer cared about her impending death sentence. All she could think about was getting this creature out of her before it tore her in half.

Just when she thought she might lose her mind from it all, the midwife finally gave her the instruction she had been simultaneously dreading and raring for.

“It's time to push, my lady. Push!”

Jezebel and Athaliah took both of their queen's hands. “Push, push!” they chanted, squeezing down in encouragement.

Sabrina didn't feel like she had the strength left to push. Each inch of her was exhausted and aching, weakened from the physical and emotional ordeal she had been through that night. Yet she knew she had to. If she didn't push now, then this abomination would never leave her. She would die in agony with it still inside her.

So she made herself push, every muscle in her body screaming at the strain. She screamed too, gripping her handmaidens' palms so hard that she would surely bruise them. The demonesses showed none of their discomfort, urging her on as she pushed, and pushed, and pushed.

It still hurt like Heaven, but it was a pain that she could bear now the end was in sight. She just needed to _push._

“You're doing so well, my lady! Just one more push!” the midwife cried, alight with both nerves and excitement.

Her words might have been the most beautiful thing Sabrina had ever heard. Summoning up the last of her might, she gave her final push. With it, the immense pain and pressure she had been feeling all night lifted, as it left her body in a rush of blood and water.

The midwife took the small, bloody creature while Sabrina slumped back onto her pillows, eyes closing in relief.

It was over. It was finally over. Her body- Sabrina Morningstar's body- was hers again. No longer did she need to share it with Lucifer's spawn, the product of her traumatic rape. No longer did she need to carry the proof of it around with her.

Though her future was bleak if she even had one, Sabrina could only focus on the present right now. And while she may have felt tired and sore from her labor, she also felt more content than she had done in months. Far from happy, but content.

Her midwife and handmaidens didn't seem to be sharing her peace of mind. As Sabrina lay in her bed, on the verge of drifting off, she became aware of how quiet it was. There was none of the wailing one would normally expect to hear from a newborn, nor the cooing and adoring squeals that she had anticipated.

There was only a deafening silence which was broken when one of the demonesses started to sniffle.

Filled with a vague sense of foreboding, Sabrina opened her eyes. The three women were gathered at the foot of her bed, Jezebel openly weeping while Athaliah gazed in mute horror at the swaddled bundle in the midwife's arms.

The midwife was staring down at it too, completely lost.

“I don't understand. Everything was going as it should. The babe was healthy, the mother was healthy...” she said, more to herself than anyone else. It was like she thought everything she knew had been contradicted. “It's the Dark Lord's child. How could this even be possible?”

_Oh...it's dead._

Sabrina knew she should feel something. She hadn't wanted it but that didn't change the fact that she was its mother. Parents were supposed to love their children. Even Lucifer, the embodiment of evil, had been aggrieved by the deaths of Adam and Sabrina Morningstar.

Sabrina felt nothing.

Noticing that she was awake, the midwife hesitantly made her way to her bedside, still carrying the dead infant. Her eyes were downcast, face regretful as she broke the sad news.

“I am truly sorry, my queen. Your baby...didn't make it. She was stillborn.”

 _She._ It had been a baby girl. A daughter of Lucifer, just like her. Just like Sabrina Morningstar.

Sabrina finally looked at her child, unable to make out much of her from the blankets that enveloped her tiny body. And she truly was tiny. Far smaller than baby Leticia or Judas had been. Smaller than she had been, in that vision, and she had been a smaller baby than most.

So small, so vulnerable, so easily broken. This little girl had been.

Sabrina suddenly felt a lump forming in her throat. Swallowing, she held out her arms.

“Let me hold her.” She knew it was pointless, that her daughter was long gone, dead before she had even drawn breath. Yet she knew she had to hold her, for the first and last time.

As the baby was placed in her arms, Sabrina took her in properly.

She was so small yet perfectly formed, her skin pearly pink now that the blood had been cleaned off her, and Sabrina could see every detail. Her delicate lips, her rounded cheeks, the light wisp of white-blonde hair on her head, her button nose, her tiny little hands. Her eyes were shut tight and she could have been sleeping.

Looking at her, Sabrina could have believed it. She could almost believe that any second now, the child would wake up and cry for its mother. For _her_. She would feed her and sing to her, rocking her until she fell asleep again, like a mother should.

But her baby wasn't going to wake up. Because she was dead. Her daughter had died, before she even got the chance to live.

When this realization truly hit her, it was like the floodgates had been opened. Tears poured down her face as all the grief and sorrow she had been holding back crashed over her, crushing her heart under its weight. She had already had to go through the grief of Sabrina's death, and then Nick's.

Now she was faced with the death of her baby. It was more than she could take.

Yet worse than the grief was the crippling sense of guilt. The angry, hateful words she had hissed were coming back to haunt her, and thinking about them made her sick.

How could she ever have said such things to her own child? She had been embittered when she spoke them, rightfully angry over everything Lucifer had done to her. She had envisioned her unborn baby as a soulless demon, a monster just like him.

Now she was holding that baby in her arms, she realized how skewed her perception had been. Her child had been innocent. She was no more to blame for having Lucifer as a father than she was.

What tore at her the most was the heartbreaking possibility that her daughter might have somehow understood her; if not her words then the vitriol behind them. She had needed love and nurture. All she got was contempt and indifference, and she had died thinking her mother hated her. That she _wanted_ her to die.

Maybe it was her fault that her daughter was dead.

Sabrina wept as she cradled her baby to her chest. “I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean it. I swear, I never meant it. I'm sorry!”

But it was too late to apologize now, when her apologies could no longer be heard. It was too late to beg for forgiveness now when the damage had already been done. She had failed as a mother, as a parent. Perhaps she was no better than Lucifer himself.

It was all because of him. He had been the one who put her through all this. All the hatred that she thought she had felt towards the unborn baby in her womb had been hatred towards him. She had resented her, seeing her as the chains that kept her tethered to a life that no longer seemed worth living.

When she looked down at her dead daughter now, she knew how wrong she had been. This child would have been the one thing that could have made her happy again. She would have been Sabrina's one light in the darkness. If only her life hadn't been snuffed out.

Another anguished sob escaped her. “I was wrong. I did want you. I love you, I love you more than anything!” She broke down completely while hugging her child, not willing to relinquish her yet. Not while there was still warmth in her small body.

She would have this moment with her daughter, the only one she would ever have.

A moment that was cut short by an inevitable intrusion.

Sabrina recognized the sound of Lucifer's footsteps as he entered the room, although she didn't dare look up. Her arms instinctively tightened around her baby as he approached. She had been so caught up in her own grief that she hadn't thought about how Lucifer would react when he learned she had birthed a dead child.

Indeed, she was so miserable already that it didn't seem like it mattered. It was hard to imagine she could feel any worse.

But if she had learned anything, it was that things could always get worse. Always.

The midwife went to apprehend him, evidently thinking it better to tell him the bad news before he saw it for himself. Her voice was too hushed for Sabrina to decipher her exact words, yet she sounded justifiably petrified.

Sabrina waited for him to erupt with rage. To kill the midwife for her failure, by snapping her neck or causing her to go up in flames. At the very least, she expected to hear curses being thrown. He was silent and still for a moment once the midwife had finished her explanation, all while Sabrina and everyone else present waited for the explosion.

Then without a word, he turned away from the midwife and walked over to the bed.

So he was going to blame her for it instead. Perhaps he would kill her now, since she was no longer carrying his child. Maybe that was for the better. She wouldn't have to suffer any more...and she might be reunited with Sabrina, Nick and her child in the afterlife...

With another look at her, Sabrina felt herself beginning to break down again, as she was reminded of all she had lost. She was still weeping when Lucifer sat down next to her. She could feel his gaze on her and the dead child in her arms, and she waited for his hands to close around her throat.

_Just do it. Please. I can't live like this any more._

Yet it was his arms that enclosed her instead. Wrapping her up in a warm embrace, he held her to his chest while she continued to sob.

He had never hugged her before. And even though he was the one who had done this, who had foisted this pregnancy upon her that caused her nothing but misery and ended in tragedy, she found herself leaning into him. She sought his comfort, even though she hated him.

He didn't say anything, just quietly holding her and their child while she cried. When he finally did speak, it wasn't to Sabrina, but to the midwife who was still waiting nervously in the corner of the room.

“I need you to stay for the next few days and see to Sabrina's recovery. Then you can return to your coven. For now, I want to be left alone with my daughters.”

The midwife's relief was palpable. She seemed to let out an intake of breath as she curtsied, murmuring condolences before leaving the room, the handmaidens filing out after her.

Even after they went, Lucifer remained quiet. His arms were still wrapped around Sabrina, cradling her, and their warmth seemed like what her weary body needed. It was a huge contradiction that the embrace of someone she hated and feared could make her feel so comfortable.

Yet it did. She didn't even realize she had fallen asleep until a knock on the door awoke her.

Coming to, she panicked when she realized her arms were empty. Where had her baby gone? Had she been taken away from her? She looked anxiously at Lucifer, who was now sitting in a chair at her bedside. Deducing the source of her distress, he gestured to a moses basket that had been placed next to her on the bed.

Sabrina relaxed upon seeing it. She knew she would have to say goodbye to her daughter eventually, but she wanted to be there when she was laid to rest.

Turning towards the door, Lucifer called out. “You may enter.”

Sabrina's anxiety kicked in again with full force when the door opened and she saw their visitor was none other than Caliban. The horror must have shown on her face, for Lucifer placed a reassuring hand on hers, very terse as he addressed the prince.

“Prince Caliban. What is the meaning behind this intrusion?”

Caliban bowed deeply. “I heard the tragic news about the princess. My condolences, Lord Lucifer,” he said, his face solemn and a lot of unconvincing grief in his tone.

Sabrina wasn't remotely fooled by his “condolences.” Neither was Lucifer, judging by the way his jaw tautened as he waited for him to make his real point. This was Hell. No one said or did anything out of the kindness of their hearts, and Caliban obviously hadn't come here to merely express sympathy.

Unfazed by the cold reception he'd received, he went on. “I have come to inquire about my late wife's interment. Since Sabrina Spellman is no longer with child, do you plan on commencing with the burial of her body?”

There it was. The very fear that had been playing on Sabrina's mind for the entire pregnancy, spoken out loud. It had loomed over her for months, filling her with dread and anxiety, and plaguing her nightmares. As much as she had hated living, the thought of being thrown back in that tomb to repeat her whole ordeal- to experience the deterioration of her body and mind once more- had been a constant source of terror for her.

It was surprising how little she cared now.

Lucifer's hand instantly tightened over hers and his eyes glowed a furious red as he answered. “I will _not_ be burying Sabrina. Why would I bury my daughter when she is still very much alive?”

Sabrina thought she might have seen Caliban take a quarter of a step back. He quickly regained his bearings, something of incredulous amusement arising on his handsome features.

“But Lord Lucifer...that isn't Sabrina Morningstar, that's Sabrina Spellman. That imposter stole your daughter's body to use-” he began, as though he thought Lucifer might have forgotten. Before he could even finish his sentence, a gust of wind tore through the room and every flame surged up, his words seemed to have incited a strong emotional reaction from the Dark Lord.

Fury radiated from Lucifer as he fired back, “I know very well who she is. And she is no imposter. She is as much my daughter as Sabrina Morningstar was. She _is_ Sabrina Morningstar. Never question that again, boy, unless you want me to strike you down where you stand.”

Sabrina turned to him, eyes widening in shock. Lucifer had told her the same thing before but he had had reason to lie then. What reason could he possibly have for lying to Caliban?

Unless...unless it wasn't a lie. Unless he truly _had_ accepted her as his daughter.

Caliban's smile disappeared at Lucifer's reprimand, and he appeared to be battling anger at being shot down and apprehension at provoking the Dark Lord further. Swallowing whatever it was he wanted to say, he bowed again.

“Understood, Lord Lucifer. I apologize for my disrespect,” he said, voice light and pleasant. Meanwhile his eyes burned with resentment, that only intensified as they wandered to where Sabrina lay on the bed. It took all of her will-power to stare him down instead of falling to pieces like she did last time.

As he examined her, taking in her pale but defiant face, his expression became hungry. “Then in that case...if they are indeed one and the same...” The smirk resurfaced as he turned back to Lucifer. “Sabrina Morningstar and I were married by Infernal Law. By all rights, that makes this Sabrina my wife too.”

Sabrina was unable to stifle a fearful gasp.

“Absolutely not,” was all Lucifer said in response to Caliban's proposal.

“But it was-”

Lucifer stood up now, dark robes swishing about him, glaring at the prince. “Consider your marriage to Sabrina Morningstar annulled. My daughter despises you, and I won't force her into a marriage she is unhappy with. Now go, before I lose my temper with you!”

Caliban turned a deep red, seething with indignation. It was clear that he wanted nothing more than to curse Lucifer but also knew doing so would not end well for him, and he was nothing if not calculating.

With one final, extremely reluctant bow, he managed to force a “Very well, Lord Lucifer,” before turning his heel and storming out.

Once he was gone, Sabrina was left reeling, not only from the tense encounter itself but from what it had revealed to her.

After everything Lucifer had done, she hadn't been able to believe him when he told her that he had accepted her as his daughter. She had been waiting for the moment when all his fatherly concern would dissipate and he would lash out at her like he had done when she dared to mourn her brother.

It had seemed like an inevitability. The best thing to do was mentally prepare for it. Prepare herself, for the moment she would wake up and find herself back in Sabrina Morningstar's tomb.

In the end, it was their stillborn daughter who was laid to rest there.

Her tiny body was embalmed and daubed with the same myrrh infusion that had been applied to Sabrina all those months before. Swaddled in cloth-of-gold, she was placed in the arms of an effigy representing the late Sabrina Morningstar; her sister, and in a way, mother.

The trove of belongings in the tomb gained a whole new collection of treasures, every toy and baby item from the nursery that Sabrina's handmaidens had been preparing for her. As she watched them being brought in, Sabrina felt another sad pang. She hadn't even seen any of it until now, having had no interest while she was pregnant.

Seeing each toy and imagining how she and her daughter would have played together if only things had gone differently, was painful.

When everything had been put in place and the time came for her and Lucifer to shut the tomb behind them forever, Sabrina had been gripped by both a sense of relief and overwhelming loss.

The last trying task had been deciding on the name to be inscribed beneath Sabrina Morningstar's on the tombstone. If the baby had lived, then Sabrina thought she might have named her _Sabrina_ to honor her dead counterpart. _Nicola_ , in honor of Nick. And _Diana_ , in honor of her own mother. Three deceased people whom Sabrina had loved with all her heart.

So much death. So much sorrow. She was weary of it. She didn't think she could take another reminder. And her daughter deserved a name of her own.

So she named her Hope. It seemed poetic.

If Lucifer disapproved of her choice- which was probably far too uplifting for Hell- then he chose not to voice it. He was very quiet in general during the days following Sabrina's stillbirth and their daughter's subsequent burial, saying little but remaining yet a constant presence at her side, just as he had been while she recovered from her immurement in the tomb.

Recovering from childbirth didn't take as long. According to the midwife, the birth itself had been an easy one by most standards despite its tragic outcome. Sabrina had trouble believing her.

Yet her words seemed to be true, for it wasn't long before Lucifer gave the midwife the all-clear to return to her coven. Though the witch didn't receive any of the blessings and grand prestige that she might have gotten had she delivered a healthy child, she was thankfully spared Lucifer's wrath.

For that, Sabrina was glad. Easy as it might have been to resent the midwife for not being her Aunties, she had grown fond of her during the time she had spent caring for her.

It wasn't until after the midwife left that Sabrina realized she'd never even asked her name.

Now it was all over. Her pregnancy had ended, Hope had been buried, her tomb had been sealed shut and she was still here, not in it. When she had spent nine months believing she was living on borrowed time, it was surreal to realize she actually had all the time in the world.

And when she felt as empty as she did, it was impossible to know what she was going to do with it. Nothing could fill the void that Hope had left in her heart. Not all the wealth and luxury that a queen was entitled to, not all the status.

Not even her magic could. Lucifer had unbound her powers after the midwife's departure, something she never believed would happen. So long had she pined for their return. Now they were back, she could barely even summon up the effort to use them. It hardly seemed worth it.

Nothing did. All she could do now was go through the motions.

It wasn't until a couple of nights after Hope's burial, as she and Lucifer ate dinner together in his private rooms, that she asked the question which had been playing on her mind.

“So...what happens to me now?”

Lucifer looked up from his plate, which held a rare steak of questionable source.

“What else? You will take your place as Queen of Hell and rule by my side for all of eternity, as is your birth right. As you should have done to begin with,” he said softly, setting his knife and fork down on the table in possible anticipation of an argument.

Sabrina knew she would have fought with him over this once. She _had_ fought him on it, and won. Temporarily. That had been the first time he tried to crown her Queen of Hell. Trying to escape that fate again had been what led to her and Sabrina going their different ways. Even though she'd gained a taste for being queen, she had wanted to live with her family and friends on Earth more than anything else.

The life of Sabrina Spellman seemed like a distant memory now. She still had a sense of regret whenever she thought about the people she had left behind but it was growing lesser by the day. Though she would always love them, it was easier to love them from a distance.

At least this way, she could remember them as she left them, alive and well. She would never have to worry about needing to bury them as she had done with Hope. Love was too hard when it only ever seemed to end in loss.

Looking down at her own plate, which she had only been picking at, she raised another question instead.

“You annulled Sabrina's marriage to Caliban. I'm glad about that, but...are you going to expect me to marry some other lord of Hell? You still want grandchildren, don't you?” She was sure he did, and Sabrina didn't think she could go through it all again. The pregnancy, the childbirth...and the fear that she would only end up with another stillborn baby.

She didn't even think she would ever want to have sex again. She'd enjoyed it with Nick, but being raped had left her with a horror of the idea. Fewer prospects seemed worse than having to lie beneath some strange demon who was probably no better than Lucifer or Caliban.

The mention of him prompted a derisive snort from Lucifer.

“Giving Caliban permission to wed you- Sabrina- was a mistake. I hoped the boy would prove as malleable as the clay from which he was sculpted, a suitable tool for House Morningstar. But all the marriage did was give him an inflated sense of his own importance. I'm wary of repeating that error.” Seeming to think he was in the clear, he picked up his knife and continued cutting into his streak.

“It isn't as if there's anyone you want to marry anyway,” he added, throwing her a knowing look.

Sabrina put down her own cutlery and clasped her hands in front of her, appetite completely gone. “No. There was only one man I ever loved and you killed him,” she said quietly, the rage and hatred that had been drowned out by recent sorrow now simmering to the surface once more.

“Sabrina...”

“You killed him for “defiling” me. Never mind that I was head over heels for him and Sabrina Morningstar wouldn't have minded because she would have wanted me to be happy. But we didn't have your _permission_ , so I guess that makes it as good as rape in your world view!” she snapped at Lucifer, who was on edge once more and eyeing her with irritated apprehension. “...Then again, it isn't like you see anything wrong with rape. Not when you're the one doing it, anyway. Or those who you've given _permission._ ”

As though she was a commodity to be rented, like a car. That was all Sabrina Morningstar had been to him. And that was all she was now.

“Sabrina...” A subtle warning had entered Lucifer's tone, which Sabrina laughed derisively at.

“Or what? What are you going to do to me, _Dad_? Will you throw me back in the tomb? Will you rape me first?” Rising from her chair, she glowered down at him. “Go on, then. Go ahead and fuck me. Press me against the table and have your wicked way with me like you did last time. Maybe I'll even get pregnant again!”

Lucifer actually flinched at this taunt as though it had caused him physical pain.

“Sabrina, stop this,” he told her, trying to appear stern yet sounding somewhat shaken.

Sabrina laughed again. It was a shrieking, hysterical laugh that was closer to a sob than anything. Then, with a swish of her arm and flare of magic, she sent the dinner table flying. It crashed into the wall on the far side of the room, the multitude of dishes it carried shattering on the floor.

Lucifer didn't cast so much as a glance at the mess. His eyes were on his furious daughter who now stood directly over him, nothing in between them.

She leaned towards him, eyes glowing white while her voice was high and babyish. “Aww, what's the matter? Am I making you uncomfortable, _Daddy_? Were you hoping we could just move on like nothing happened and play happy families together?”

As the color drained from his face, she knew she had hit the nail on the head.

He didn't want to be reminded of what had transpired between them. Even while she had been pregnant with the physical proof of his rape of her, he had never mentioned it. That half-assed plea for forgiveness he gave her after the midwife's first visit was the closest he had even come to acknowledging what he had done, and he had glossed over the details even then.

Now that the baby was gone, he seemed to think he could sweep everything under the rug and go back to treating her as his daughter, the stand-in for Sabrina Morningstar. As though she could ever love him, respect him or view him as a father now.

She hated him.

As disgusted as she felt at even the sight of him, seeing him squirm at her denouncement- her loud reminder of his past crimes- brought her a greater pleasure than she had felt in a long time. Finally, it seemed like she had something to wield over him, something to hurt him with.

He wanted to forget what had happened. Well, so did she. She had spent many a night wishing she could scrub the entire incident from her mind, but she knew she never would. She was forever tainted.

All she could do was make sure he carried the same taint for eternity too.

Dropping to her knees in front of him, she reached for his belt. He immediately tensed up as she did, both wary and bewildered at her actions.

“What are you doing?”

She ignored his question, beginning to undo his pants. He caught her hands in his. “Sabrina!”

He sounded slightly panicked now. How she _loved_ it.

Pushing his hands away, she reached for him once more. When he tried to stop her again, she stilled his hands with a similar binding spell to the one that Lilith used to restrain him at her first failed coronation so long ago. Though it had been too exhaustive for Lilith to maintain for more than a few seconds, Sabrina found it far easier.

Maybe because her magic was stronger than Lilith's...or maybe because Lucifer wasn't fighting so hard against her. Or most likely, a bit of both.

After she finished undoing his pants, she peered up at him through her lashes. “What do you _think_ I'm doing?” she said, in a mocking purr.

“Sabrina...daughter...stop, this isn't right-” Lucifer practically pleaded, as she took him in her hand.

He was _pleading_ with her. Just as she had pleaded with him. Although what she was doing to him would come nowhere near close to the trauma he had inflicted on her, it still brought her a lot of satisfaction to hear it.

Even so, he never failed to amaze her with his hypocrisy.

“I thought you were above right and wrong, above good and evil? That's what your scriptures always taught me?” she questioned, while running her hand up and down his shaft.

“Yes, but...” A sheen of perspiration had formed on Lucifer's brow, from either the exertion of resisting her spell or the unwilling pleasure that her touch was giving him.

She pressed a finger against his lips. “But nothing. I know you want this, Dad. You wanted me last time.” She looked down at the stiff cock in her hand. “See, you're already hard.”

“Sabrina-” He made one more attempt to break her binding which she managed to deflect, though the effort of doing so caused Sabrina to break out in a sweat herself.

All resistance from him ceased when she lowered her head and took him in her mouth.

This was something she had done a few times with Nick during the short time they'd ultimately had together. Despite blow jobs generally being considered a submissive act on the giver's part, she had begged to differ, finding that they gave her a sense of power, the feeling that she had full control over her partner's pleasure.

She got a similar feeling now, though it was different to how it was with Nick. Lucifer was far bigger, for a start- and Nick had hardly been small- her mouth straining to accommodate his full girth, and she knew there was no chance in Heaven of her taking all of him.

Even so, she sucked and licked to the best of her ability, and from his blissed moans it seemed she was doing something right.

As she threw all her attention into pleasuring him, she completely forgot about maintaining the binding spell until she felt his hand come to rest on her head. He had managed to break through it. He didn't shove her away though, instead curling his fingers into her silvery hair and pushing her down further.

She gagged at the unfamiliar sensation of him touching the back of her throat, Nick having never gone that deep. But the feeling wasn't altogether unpleasant and Lucifer gave her a moment to acclimatize to it before beginning to guide her head, softly moaning her name and other endearments under his breath as he did.

Had her mouth not been filled with him, Sabrina might have taunted him again. He had dropped his facade of fatherly morality extremely fast.

She had to speculate on whether this was solely down to him lacking impulse control, whether he had decided to separate her from his Sabrina again in his mind...or possibly (and the thought made her nauseous) because he had secretly been harboring these feelings towards Sabrina Morningstar all along.

In any case, he had folded like a pack of cards as soon as she had placed her mouth on him. No matter what happened after this, there would be no pretending now.

Eventually his moans turned into groans. His grip of her head tightened and he fucked into her mouth with new ardor until Sabrina's jaw ached.

Then he went still, a low cry escaping him as he came, his hot seed filling her mouth. It was thick, sticky and held a bitter taste. Sabrina's stomach turned when she remembered the black substance that seeped out of her after his first attack.

As he released his hold on her hair and she pulled away from him, part of her was tempted to spit the vile stuff out. She instead forced herself to swallow before getting to her feet, her knees sore and her legs numb from kneeling on the hard marble floor for what must have been at least twenty minutes.

As she started pacing the room to try and get some sensation back, she felt Lucifer's eyes on her. He hadn't moved from his chair, still panting from his orgasm, and Sabrina didn't have any idea what he was thinking.

Was he furious with her for her little power-play? Would he decide she really was a “whore” and disown her again? Or would he simply choose to pretend that it never happened, like he did with the rape?

Stopping her pacing, she turned to look at him in an effort to deduce his emotions. She half-expected to see him glowering at her, his eyes burning red.

She _wasn't_ expecting to see him watching her with such tenderness in his expression.

As she looked back at him, he beckoned her while patting his thigh. “Come here, daughter.”

So she was still _daughter,_ at any rate.

Doing as he said, Sabrina went over to him and sat down on his lap, feeling extremely awkward. In a way, this seemed even more weirdly intimate than what she had just done with him.

As she settled herself down, one of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other slipped under her skirt.

So he had decided that he wanted more. She probably should have foreseen that consequence. And in her current state, having just given birth, being forced to have sex would probably tear her apart.

Lucifer didn't remove her underwear, however. He instead thumbed her through the thin fabric of her panties, brushing against her clit; softly enough that it wasn't too rough on her sensitive flesh, but hard enough to send shivers of pleasure throughout her core.

It was the first time she had experienced sexual pleasure since before she'd been locked in the tomb. Even if being raped hadn't put her off the thought of sex altogether, it wasn't like she'd had the opportunity while she was being watched twenty-four seven by her handmaidens or Lucifer.

She had forgotten how good it could feel.

“There,” he said, once the pleasure had built up inside her and she climaxed with a shuddered gasp, her entire body tingling.

Withdrawing his hand, he pulled her flush against him, holding her while she came down from the high. She rested her head on his shoulder, once again musing on how bizarre it was that she could feel so comfortable in the arms of someone whose very existence she loathed.

All the while that Lucifer was holding her, occasionally running a hand through her hair, she could detect a distant look in his eye. Her father seemed to be deep in thought. She didn't know what it was he was thinking about, what he was contemplating, what decision he was trying to reach. But whatever it was, he eventually came to it.

His eyes gleamed with a new resolution when he looked down at her, cupping her face in his hands. They burned into her, bright and eager- and, dare she say it...hungry- as he said one of the last things she had expected to hear.

“Sabrina, I want you to be my wife.”

Sabrina's heart seemed to stop in her chest. She was rendered speechless, staring at him in dumbstruck shock.

Taking in her bewildered expression, a smile surfaced on his lips.

“Your annulment to Caliban has been finalized. Now that you are a maiden once more, the wolves will begin circling. I could never entrust you to any of that pack. Likewise, I know better than to ever take any of the demonesses to wife. They're all scheming, overreaching harpies like Lilith, loyal only to themselves. No. We're strongest together, daughter.”

His fingers caressed her face, while his bright eyes implored her. “This was meant to be, Sabrina. I as your King, you as my Queen and Consort, ruling Hell together for all eternity. Only I can make you truly happy. Marry me, Sabrina, and I will.”

As she looked into his pleading eyes, Sabrina thought that he might even believe what he was saying.

She knew better. Lucifer could never make her happy. He had brought her nothing but misery up until now and he would bring her nothing but misery after she married him. The foundation of a happy marriage was love, and all she could bring to it was hatred. She would never feel anything else for him.

Even if he tried to change for the better, it was too late. He had lost her.

But Sabrina had lost everything. She was alone, in Hell, surrounded by demons who detested her at worst or were indifferent to her at best. The love of her life was dead. Her child was dead. Everyone else she loved was in a completely different dimension, and she had to stay away from them for their own protection. There was no going back the way she came.

Only two things remained to her. Her crown and her life.

Both were precarious. Whether she was able to keep them depended on Lucifer himself. Whatever he said about accepting her as his daughter, she knew better to believe he wouldn't one day change his mind and throw her back in the tomb.

She would never be truly safe from that fate. But marrying him would give her one more tie to him, bring her one more measure of security that would make it harder for him to cut her loose.

And so Sabrina came to her own decision.

“Yes,” she whispered, a tear or two rolling down her cheek. “Yes...I will marry you, Father.”

Through eyes that were misted over, she saw his face light up at her acceptance. He pulled her into his embrace once more, his arms tight and possessive around her, his hand pressing her head against his chest while he began to discuss all the arrangements that would need to be made for their wedding.

It was all meaningless noise to Sabrina. She was mute with misery in his embrace, which no longer felt warm and comforting. It now felt like a cage, cruel and restrictive like him. This was the man she was going to marry. The so-called father who had raped her, impregnated her and condemned her to death.

This marriage would either be what saved her or what destroyed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was...heavy. Even by my standards.  
> I know people are probably disappointed the Aunties didn't end up helping Sabrina with her pregnancy. I think Sabrina was genuinely scared about bringing them into such a situation. I also want to keep this fic fairly self-contained with all the emphasis on the Hell characters, and Sabrina being isolated & surrounded by people she can't trust.  
> I hope people don't judge Sabrina too harshly for the attitude she displayed towards her unborn baby. She was in an EXTREMELY dark state of mind this chapter, and no woman should be forced to go through with a pregnancy when she's unwilling.  
> I have no idea if the Spellmans have German ancestry but Zelda & Hilda are both German names so I guessed that to be the case?  
> In case no one guessed, Jezebel and Athaliah are supposed to be those two maidservants that helped Sabrina Morningstar get ready for her coronation and carried her train at the end of Part 3. Which maybe makes them half OCs? 😛  
> Anyway, next chapter should probably be the last. I wouldn't say this fic has a happy ending but it might be cathartic at any rate. Writing this has been quite the emotional ride & it's actually been getting to me quite a lot. You might ask why I put myself through it, but it's probably just me being a tortured writer. And like I said, catharsis.

**Author's Note:**

> The story doesn't end there. I originally planned this to be a oneshot, then it became a twoshot and now I think it's probably going to be a threeshot. The next two chapters probably won't be QUITE as explicit as this 😌 It seems I still haven't learned my lesson about writing sexual scenes.  
> Yes, I know I made Caliban a total monster in this story but...after watching Part 4, I reached the conclusion that he is one. This is the guy who was willing to throw a newborn baby (his wife's brother!) into the fires of Hell. I really want to believe that he did love Sabrina Morningstar or at least have a soft spot for her, but it's obvious his main reason for marrying her was to get closer to the throne. A lot of fans are pointing to the scene where he tells Lucifer to get her body back as proof he loved her but I think that was just a smokescreen. IMO he was less bothered about getting his wife's body and more concerned with destroying the Greendale coven. Remember his declaration of war in episode 3? And he wanted to get rid of Sabrina Spellman too, because she was now a contender for the throne again and he knew he wouldn't be able to seduce her as easily as Sabrina Morningstar. So she had to go.


End file.
